Lady of the Silver Temple
by Giovanna1
Summary: ***Lil' A/N, nuffin much...just to clear up the whole 'lemon-thang'*** After her family was slaughtered, DAINE was 'adopted' by a famous courtesan (aka hooker) and trained as one of the best! r/r No 'scenes' yet.
1. Author's Ramblings

This whole idea started with me hearing Britney's on the radio. Ugh. Anyway, she put to mind sluts...and then I was listening to my Moulin Rouge CD, and I remembered the film...and I started to think: What if Daine never found Onua? What if she went to Criá, and was adopted' by the mistress of a famous, well-to-do, first-class brothel (like Moulin Rouge)? Yes, I know, it's hard to imagine the sweet, friendly Daine as a hooker, but there you go...I have to take a new angle at this entire what-if-thang'.  
So be easy with me. I'm hoping this will be a sort of mini-series, but I seriously doubt it will go that far. And this is just the first, rough draft. When I have the entire basis' written, I'll polish it up and you can actually enjoy reading it without shifting through A/N's and other stuff.  
  
**Some information:**  
1. Daine leaves Snowsdale after her family's killed and the villagers drive her out.  
2. Numair _does_ manage to escape Sinthya. Yay!!!  
3. Uh...Ozorne does not do any lasting' damage to any of our favorite characters.  
4. Kitten? Dunno...I'll work something out.  
5. Since I'm a terrible poet (and since lyrics to songs _are_ poetry) most of them are taken from REAL songs. I might have changed some of the words in a song (like TV or telephone; get my drift?) but the whole idea of the song stays the same. I don't claim to own the songs; they're too good to be mine.  
6. If I unconsciously incorporate someone's ideas, I apologize. I don't think I will - and if I do, cheer up! It's a compliment!   
7. Er...oh, yes, the all-famous disclaimer. Tammy's stuff are hers - I claim no one you know before starting this story. So hah. Stay away.   
  
**More info:** my email (incase you have questions, comments, raves, flamers, death threats, ideas, etc...) is: bigego_13@hotmail.com And my Tortallan website is: http://www.expage.com/horselords   
  
µž

**Cast of (Main) Characters**  
  


**Daine (Veralidaine) Sarrasri**: 17 year old Gallan girl. Taken in by Damara at 13 years. Also known as _Bedbug_.  
**Damara Janasri**: Mistress of the Silver Temple. Formerly the favorite concubine of the King Trystam of Galla. Foster-mother of Daine.  
**Alanna the Lioness**: Hahah. Very funny.  
**Numair Salmalín**: Oh please...(confession: I love him. How can I love a character from a _book_? I truly am in denial...)  
**Pichi the Kisser**: Daine's friend, an old-timer' 20 year old in the Silver Temple.   
**Valentina My Valentine**: Daine's friend, another old timer' in the Silver Temple. 22 years old.  
**Juliana Tomeksri**: Daine's best friend, 16 yrs old, a trainee' in the Silver Temple.  
  
  
Okay, if that's it, we can get started¤


	2. Part I

**Disclaimer: Anyone familiar belongs to the holy Tamora Pierce. Please forgive my peverted idea of Daine being a hooker - I was bored!  
@**

  
Part I   
A New Life  
(dorky title)  
  


For Damara Janasri, it had all started like a normal day. In the morning, she had gone through her establishment, and with her girls, she had switched all the flowers and changed the theme of the place. Some of her trainees changed all the bedclothes; now, the silken sheets and plush pillows were fresh and smelled slightly like lemon.  
In the afternoon, she had gone to the market, hoping to find some strawberries. They were hard to come by in this time of year, Galla being so northern and cold. Fortunately, she had found the much desired fruit and bought several kilos.   
But as she made her way back to the Silver Temple, she heard a comotion coming from a small alleyway. Damara placed her baskets in a hidyhole - there were hundreds in the city, and she knew most of them - and with a dagger in her hand, strode into the dark path, her small Gift lighting her way.  
The source of the noise came from a huge man - _probably a blacksmith_ Damara thought scornfully - and a smaller person, who was being beaten by the man.  
What's going on? Damara demanded. The man turned to her; Damara recognized him. Her girls had said he was one of their most violent customers; Eric Larson.  
The little _meretrij_ was stealing some of my works! he snapped. No one steals from Eric Larson! He raised his fist to hit the thief some more, but Damara yelled,  
  
Eric glared at her. What's the _meretrij_ worth to you? he sneered.  
Give her to me, Damara said instead. Eric pushed the girl to her; she stumbled, but Damara caught her.  
Feeling like a mother, Damara brushed away tangled curls to reveal a thin, half-starved face. Blue-gray eyes were overly bright, framed in incredibly long lashes. Ruddy lips - which were, at the moment, split and bleeding slugishly - balanced a stubborn chin.  
_She's so beautiful _Damara thought suddenly. Thank you, Eric, I'll take her. Good day. She guided the stunned child to the hidyhole, retrieved her strawberries, and returned to the Silver Temple, leaving a stunned Eric Larson.  
  
The girl was very quiet when Damara made her bathe. She endured a brief healing with an experienced air, and accepted a simple dress gratefully. Damara was somewhat relieved when she all but _breathed_ down the offered food.  
So, child, what is your name?  
The girl regarded her with those huge eyes. Veralidaine Sarrasri, mum, she answered at last. But people call me Daine.  
Damara liked her clear, accented Common. I am Damara Janasri, mistress of the Silver Temple.  
Daine's eyes went, if possible, even bigger. You're named after your ma, too? I...you're the first person I... She was totally at a loss for words.  
Most of us at the Silver Temple are bastards, Damara assured. You must be from a small place if I'm the first bastard-born woman you've met, besides yourself.  
I was born in Snowsdale, the girl said stiffly. My ma was the village healer. Sarra Beneksri...she's dead.  
I'm sorry.  
Daine shrugged. Happened when them bandits attacked. Her and grandda were killed. Me and...I wasn't there. She left it at that. The pain was obviously too fresh in her mind. What's the Silver Temple? she asked, changing the subject.  
Damara, grinning, gestured around them. This! The Silver Temple is my establishment. It's the most renown brothel in the Galla, maybe even in the Eastern Lands!  
Daine seemed to shrink into herself. You're a -?  
Prostitute? Yes. The head one, actually. Everyone here answers to me. But don't worry, Daine. I'm well educated - I know letters and numbers. I have a small Gift for healing. I have connections. I used to be the favorite woman of King Trystam.  
whispered Daine. You're common-born.  
snorted Damara. If I was noble, d'you think I'd be here? No, my ma was common-blood - but I know for a fact my da was some foreigner noble. She had slipped into her informal Comman, dropping her aloof manner. Daine seemed more at ease with the down-to-earth Damara.  
Dunno who my da is. Just know that my ma met him at Beltane.  
At that moment, two young women skipped into the room, laughing. One was tall and willowy, with white-blonde hair and pale blue eyes. She was dressed in a simple dress; the finery she wore at night was hanging in her closest. The other woman was short and slender, with generous curves. Her hair gave the impression of flames, and in the firelight, her blue eyes could almost be violet.  
Daine, let me introduce you to Valentina My Valentine and Pichi the Kisser, said Damara. Pichi is the copper-top, and Valentine is the one who makes you feel like you just arrived at the Roof.  
Pichi came forward, eyes friendly. And what may we call you, youngling?  
I'm Daine Sarrasri, Daine said.  
A pleasure, Valentina said, frowning. Did someone beat you?  
Eric Larson, Damara said; both young ladies winced.  
We really ought to poison him someday, Pichi muttered; Damara narrowed her eyes.  
If anyone does the poisoning, it'll be me, thank you very much, she said darkly. Anyway, Daine? she turned to the young girl.  
  
Would you like to stay here for a while? I could teach you how to read and write and do numbers.  
I know some of all, already. Ma taught me.  
I'll sharpen your skills. I can teach you...er...courtly behavior, how to dress to please the eye. I'll school you.  
Daine cocked her head to one side, considering the offer. she finally asked. Why do this for me?  
'Cause I've taken a liking to you, Damara replied, grinning.  
Pichi muttered, Smiling at Daine, she added, She'll supply a room, food, clothes, medicine, and eveything you want.  
Valentina patted Daine gently on the shoulder. I have to go pick up my new dress, she commented, then stalked off.  
I have to go decide what to wear for tonight, Pichi said. She left, leaving Damara and Daine alone.  
  
Daine's brow furrowed with thought. I can leave whenever I want?  
Damara nodded. _I hope not. She'll be a stunner when she grows up.  
_Yes. I need a place to stay.  
Damara's breath exploded from her chest. With childlike abandon, she leapt up and pulled Daine to her feet. Let's go get you a room!¤


	3. Part II

**This part's quite long - enjoy!  
PS: I _know_ I should be working on Death Mark'd Love - but I'm outta ideas...thus...Lady of the Silver Temple!  
**

  
  
Part II  
  


All the eligible ladies are very worked up today, Alanna commented, peeling an orange. I wonder why.  
From the opposite end of the table, King Jonathan grinned. Could it be that a certain mage has finally arrived?  
I don't know, Alanna replied, playing the game she had started.   
I personally don't understand what he has that I don't.  
It's what he _doesn't_ have, Alanna said seriously, glancing at her king. He looked shocked.  
Excuse me? They love him more than I, even though he is less than I?  
Alanna gave Jon a feral smile, showing all her white teeth. Beards are rather out of date, she said. Hint hint hint.  
Jon stroked his. Then, saying a curt word, he brought his hand down rapidly. There was a spark of blue, then he was cleanshaven.   
Alanna opened her mouth to reply, but a different voice beat her to it.  
Yes, but not by much.  
The two friends turned to the door, which was being shut by a tall, powerfully built man in his late-twenties. Ebony hair fought its tie, and brushed his shoulders.  
Jon cried, falsely contrite. We were just talking about you!  
The man nodded. I picked that up. I know when people talk about me - it's a knack I have.  
Alanna raised her eyebrows. Right. So is playing the magnet with all the nobleladies, right?  
Of course. Numair's dark eyes were laughing. So, how are my two least favorite nobles?  
Very funny, Numair, Alanna said dryly, coming up to him and hugging him tightly. It's been a while.  
He nodded. A while too long. You know Jonathan has a diabolical delight in sending me to go work abroad. He turned serious. So why did you call me _now_?  
Jon gestured for the mage to sit. A servant brought Numair some fresh pasteries and orange juice, which he accepted gratefully.  
We've received a message from King Trystam -  
King Who? interrupted Numair with a puzzled look.  
King Trystam of Galla, Jon said. Anyway, he contacted us. Apparently, there's a magical outbreak in Galla.  
What? You mean people are suddenly coming down with Gift-fluenzia and spell-itis?  
The king glared at Numair. _No_. What I mean is that people are showing strange signs of magic. The daughter of one of the Gallan lesser-lords can walk through walls. A stableboy in a brothel can seep the Gift out of a person just by _touching_ and temporarily have that person's magic. It's strange. He has asked me to send you to investigate.  
Numair had his scholar-face on. Strange. He soaks a person's Gift? Odd. Walking through walls? Mages can do that - but only with the help of many spells. The girl can just..._walk_ through, just like that?  
From what the messenger said, Alanna said with a nod.  
Will you go? Jon asked. Will you go to Criá and see what's happening? If this is some sort of..of _mutation_ or sickness - or a new breed of magic....it could hurt or help Tortall.  
His incredibly handsome face excited, Numair nodded. (A/N: sorry, couldn't resist. I love Numair - and Neal. My dream-guy would be a mix of both! Hahah!) Course I'll go! he cried. Do I ever let a chance at the arcane go?  
Alanna and Jon said together.  
But I need help, Numair said quietly. I can't go through _all_ of Criá _alone_.  
I'll go! Alanna volunteered. Please, Jon? I'm bored here! Please, please, please?  
The king regarded his Champion with an amused expression. Very well. Go and have fun with Numair. (A/N I do _not_ mean it like _that! _Numair is mine, all mine - HAHAHAH!!!!)   
  
_A few weeks later..._  
  
Are you sure we're not still in Corus? Alanna demanded, looking around with an offended air.   
Numair said. Corus doesn't have an inn called the Squealing Harlot, does it? He pointed the inn, which showed a very...er...inappropriate picture. He made a face. Who'd want to stay there?  
Does it matter? Alanna asked, wincing as her Darkmoon walked through a puddle of mud. We're staying at Trystam's palace.  
Is Criá so much like Corus that the palace will be in the middle of the city? Numair guided his gelding around a hole in the cobblestone street.  
Yes. Jon showed me a map. We're heading to the very heart of Criá, bucko. Come on.  
The two mages urged their horses into a brisk trot. They didn't have to worry about trampling anyone, as the street was empty. Apparently, Gallans didn't like rain and snow.  
Numair said as much to Alanna, and she chuckled. Neither do I. I'd rather be in the Southern Desert. But that's me.  
They rode for another twenty minutes, and finally reached a huge gate, which was guarded by several tough-looking soldiers.  
Who're you? one asked bluntly, hand on sword hilt.  
I am Numair Salmalín, and my companion is Lady Alanna of Pirates Swoop and Olau. We are here by the King's invitation. See? Numair produced Trystam's plee for help, dripping with signatures and seals.  
The guard looked at it closely, then shouted for the gates to be opened. They swung wide, groaning, and the two Tortallans rode into the grounds of the royal palace.  
Trystam's family, House Nivue, is ancient, Alanna commented quietly, as their horses clattered down the stone road. _Way_ older than the Conté line. I wouldn't be surprised if he's a conservative.  
Don't judge him before you meet him, Numair told her sternly.  
They reached the central courtyard. Several hostlers ran up to them and took their horses, with promises that their belongings would find their way to their rooms. An old man - a lord, no doubt - met them at the palace doors and led them inside.  
I am Duke Christer, he said quietly, ducking his head in reply to their bows. King Trystam's uncle. I must thank you for coming so quickly. There have been more outbreaks of strange magic, and this time among the palace servants. Trystam is worried.  
We will do our best to help His Majesty, Your Grace, Numair promised, his voice silky.  
Then that is already more than we can hope for, Duke Christer said. Come. I've kept my nephew waiting long enough.  
The old Duke led them through the palace, and stopped in front of a pair of huge oak doors. A servant opened them, and they entered the room - which, like the doors, was huge. At the end opposite of the doors was a platform, with the throne upon it. The King's coat-of-arms was hung on the wall behind.  
Majesty, may I present Lady Alanna the Lioness, of Pirates Swoop and Olau, King's Champion, and Master Numair Salmalín of Corus, black robed mage. They come -   
In answer to my invitation, yes, I know, Your Grace, King Trystam interrupted, his voice weary. He was sitting on the steps that led to his throne. To help us with our problem. He stood up, and approached his guests, his movements like a dancer's.  
Numair and Alanna bowed.   
Welcome to Galla, Master Numair, Lady Alanna, he told them in unaccented Common. You will forgive me, of course, if I speak this language poorly. It is not my mother-tongue - but I must improvise, as you probably don't speak Gallan.  
Of course, Alanna replied, smiling gently. It's a great honor, Majesty, to meet you. You have...a good reputation.  
Trystam raised a delicate eyebrow. Aye? That's always good to hear. But it's wonderful to meet you, my lady, and you, Master Numair. You are famous here in Galla. He smiled at his uncle. Have you sent a servant to prepare their rooms, Your Grace? I think they're both dying for a bath, what with this weather...  
Duke Christer nodded. And the hostlers have taken their belongings up already.  
Good! I'd really love to get right to buisness, Trystam told the Tortallans, but I think you'd rather hear what my problem is after you've been cleaned, rested, and fed.  
Numair nodded. A bath sounds nice.  
Alanna added.  
Go on, then. Trystam grinned at them, flashing white teeth, and left the room. Duke Christer then led them to their eagerly awaited quarters.  
  
Each one was granted a small suite of rooms. A small common room joined them together - that is where they were at the moment.  
Alanna's hair was still wet, and her skin pink from a harsh scrubbing. She had changed into soft leather breeches and boots, an indigo, full-sleeved shirt, and a leather surcoat, studded with rings. When Numair saw her, he muttered something about being too aggressive', and she replied with a savage,   
Numair himself had washed and changed clothes. Now he wore, like Alanna, leather breeches and boots, but his white linen shirt was concealed in the floor-length black robe he had put on - his black Master's robe.  
Are you trying to impress? Alanna asked politely, fingering the black silk. Or are you trying to frighten?  
Maybe I'm trying to do both, retorted Numair. He was standing in front of a mirror, trying to tame his wet hair. Gods bless it, he muttered under his breath.  
Alanna watched the whole affair with amusement, but was rather relieved when the mage's preenings were done. It was too weird to watch a man fuss about his looks...  
My lord, my lady, said a new voice. A servant had entered. His Majesty asks for your presence in his private dining room.  
Ah, good. Food, Numair said, and he followed the servant, Alanna behind them.  
King Trystam was relaxing in a high-backed chair, behind dark brown table laden with food. He was absentmindedly tapping the table with a finger; his eyes were distant with deep thought.  
Alanna asked, coming towards the table.  
Trystam snapped out of his reverie and smiled at Alanna. I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. Please- he gestured - sit down and eat, before the food gets cold.  
Alanna and Numair were only too happy to obey. They fell upon the food like starved dogs, listening attentively as Trystam answered their questions about Galla and the like, murmuring things like _ahuh_ and _yes, of course_ and _no, not at all_...  
Finally, Numair pushed away a half-eaten blue-berry p ie and fixed the king with a curious gaze.  
So, what is this magical problem you are having, Your Majesty?  
With a sigh, Trystam pushed himself to his feet and moved to the window. He watched the movement outside for a few minutes before starting.  
Baron Leif of Snoet Dal has a twelve year old daughter, he began quietly. Baron Leif is one of the new-nobility, one step above a well-too-do commoner - a merchant, perhaps. Anyway, his fief is one of the many which are located on the border near Scanra. This spring, while Baron Leif was out hunting with his men, the castle was attacked. His wife, the Baroness Lena, was killed, and his daughter was hard-pressed for escape. Her bodyguard was with her when they ran into a dead end - the door in the corrider was locked and bolted from the other side. Under vow, he told me that the child went straight through the door without hesitation - and she opened the door to let him in, and locked it after him. He turned to the silent Alanna and Numair, a small smile playing across his white face. The girl - and her name is Josie - visited me a few months after the spring-attack. She demonstrated. Went straight through the wall - hell, she walked through the table!  
He returned to the table, picked an orange from a bowl of fruits, and began to peel it. One of the kitchen-workers was caught sculpting _water_! A lady-in-waiting to one of the court noblewomen made a candle go on just by _looking_ at it.  
Majesty, forgive my interruption, Alanna started, but maybe these are signs of the Gift in those people.  
It was Numair who answered. The Gift is purely academic - not supernatural. It can be used to communicate, to create illusion, to destroy, to heal, to study with, to attack with, to defend with, to create fire and light, and sometimes, to weather work and shapeshift. To make itself known to its unknowing bearer, it does something that relates to what it can do. _Looking_ at a candle to light it is not the Gift - not if the person is unexperienced and doesn't know if they have it. Or if they have very little power.  
Lady Gemma has never shown signs of having the Gift, Trystam said. Never. She was, her mistress tells me, agitated about something when she lighted the candle. There was no spark of Gift - no green or blue flames or anything. She does not have the Gift.  
Numair was nodding. So that's a new type of magic - mind magic. I've heard of it. Mind magic is supposed to be non-existant to all but the people of the Land-Across-the-Sea, but most people doubt the existance of such a place.  
Alanna looked puzzled. So the girl? What about Josie?  
I don't know, Numair admitted. She too was under stress, like Lady Gemma, so maybe that triggered the power. Majesty, did you make her nervous or something like that, before she demonstrated?  
Trystam blushed. My uncle scared her into demonstrating. When she was calm, she just banged her nose into my walls.  
So stress triggers the power. And maybe they can only use the power when stressed? Numair shook his head. Er...a kitchen servant was sculpting water?  
Trystam nodded. According to the head cook, who saw him, he was staring at the small fountain. There was a small sculpture of a winged-horse floating over him. When the cook attracted his attention, the sculpture dissolved; the boy got soaked.  
He was under stress?  
Trystam nodded again. He had just been told that his mother died delivering her fifth child.  
Alanna muttered something under her breath, but nobody noticed. Anything else? she asked loudly.  
Suddenly, Trystam looked very embarrassed. One more. It...er...I don't know...  
If you're afraid to offend us, don't be, Alanna said bluntly. We have to know what happened, no matter what. So, do tell.  
Looking at the floor as if very interested in it, Trystam mumbled, In a brothel, here in Criá, one of the...er..._stableboys_...er..._touched_ a certain Gifted individual. He was...not _exactly_ under stress - well, not bad stress, more...er...  
His dark face amused, Numair offered, Lusty stress?  
Well, not exactly, but something close to it. Anyway, he touched the person and suddenly she keeled over. He was glowing. Surprised, he waved his hands - dunno why - and suddenly the haystack was burning. Feeling so awkward, Trystam's Common became very rough.  
Yes, King Jonathan told us. The boy absorbed the person's Gift for a moment - but it returned to her. Alanna shook her head, puzzled. Dangerous talent, in my opinion. She glanced at Numair; he nodded at her. His expression wasn't very enthusiastic.  
Imagine if he absorbs the power of a highly Gifted person, he said with a shudder. He turned to Trystam. He's in Criá, you say?  
replied the king.  
Where, do you know? Alanna and I really should investigate.  
The king bit his lip; he was obviously uncomfortable. The Silver Temple, he said rapidly.  
Alanna made a face; Numair grinned. The most famous brothel in the Eastern Lands? he asked slowly, as if he didn't believe it.  
Trystam sighed. You can only find him during entertainment hours - nighttime. I have no idea where he is during the day. You _could_ ask Damara Janasri (here he turned absolutely red) but I doubt she'll tell you.  
With a crooked smile on his face, Numair said, Well, that's that.  
  
They went the next morning. Alanna had warned Numair several times to not get started' and to not act like a man'.  
But my dear Lioness! he protested, brown eyes twinkling. I _am_ a man! Or haven't you noticed? He turned serious. Alanna, I have absolutely no interest in the services of a whore. That said, I think you can live in peace. And he mounted his horse - making Alanna wince in sympathy for the animal - and led the way to the Silver Temple.  
I need info here, he said after a few minutes of riding in silence. The place's history.  
Alanna quickly recalled all that she knew about the Silver Temple. It was started _decades_ ago, but then it wasn't anything special. Just a normal place where guys went to have fun. But then Damara Janasri, who, I am curious to note, was King Trystam's concubine -  
exclaimed Numair, swallowing a howl of laughter. No wonder he was so embarrassed yesterday!  
continued the knight, as if she hadn't been cut off, her aunt was the owner of the Silver Temple then. Damara took over - and made it into the most renown, expensive, exotic, original brothel ever made. It's not just a brothel, Numair; it's a nightclub, a gambler's haven. I hope George never gets it in his head to go there - he'd never leave!  
Still chortling, Numair could only nod his agreement.  
  
Damara was writing a letter to a friend in the north when Pichi the Kisser burst into her room, her eyes wide.  
she gasped. You have two visitors - and one looks like me!  
She raised her eyebrows. Really? Their names?  
They refused to give them; one's a woman, and the other's an incredibly handsome man... Pichi trailed off, her breath coming quick.  
Damara tucked the half-finished letter away and moved towards the door. Don't have vapors, child, she said sternly. Now's not the time; control yourself and take me to them.  
Pichi pulled herself back together and led her superior to the Silver Temple's common room. She left her there and raced back upstairs.  
Shaking her head over fickle girls, Damara approached the two strangers. They were sitting with their backs turned to them, having a quiet arguement. She cleared her throat politely.  
The redheaded one turned around first. Immediately, Damara saw what spooked Pichi - this woman was short and stocky, with (duh) red hair and brilliant violet eyes. She poked her tall friend; he turned too, and again, Damara understood Pichi's reactions.  
_Wow_ she thought, impressed. _Talk about a hottie!_ She had to count to ten before she could think clearly. Hello. I am Damara Janasri; you wanted to see me? she asked, extending her hand.  
The woman took it in a steel grip. I'm Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau, and yes, we need to speak to you.  
I am at your disposal, m'lady, Damara assured her. You and your tall friend.  
The man grinned, white teeth flashing against tawny skin. I'm rude. Please forgive me; my name is Numair Salmalín.  
_Not Naughty Stud'?_ Damara thought wickedly. _Oh well..._ Please, sit. Can I get you anything to eat or drink?  
They sat. Ale would be great, Alanna said. And if Numair doesn't want his, I'll have it.  
Smiling, Damara hurried to fulfill the lady's request. Unfortunately, the keg behind the counter was empty; she excused herself and rushed to the kitchen, where she startled Daine.  
she asked, dusting off her hands. Flour flew everywhere.  
Quick, pour two tumblers of beer! she hissed. Then bring it to the common room. Hurry!  
Daine nodded, her stormy eyes puzzled. Damara returned to the common room.  
Daine'll bring it in a moment, she explained to her guests. We're running low on ale, and only she knows where the brew-master hid the kegs_.  
_That's fine, Alanna said patiently. Anyway, we're here to ask you about a boy?  
I see hundreds of boys' everyday, Damara said comfortably. You need to be more specific.  
His grin gone from his face, Numair said, He's a stableboy. We heard that one night, he drained the Gift of a person for a while.  
Comprehension dawned on her. Damara said. Graham. Him. Well, I don't know where he spends the daylight hours - but he's here everynight, to help with the horses - and other stuff, if the ocassion calls for it. But...not tonight. He's gone to visit a cousin, or something like that.  
muttered Numair.   
He's here tomorrow night, Damara added quickly.  
Brown eyes regarded her sharply. They flicked to the side and met violet ones. Then I guess we'll be here tomorrow night. Alanna?  
Sounds good to me, the woman replied comfortably.  
_Tomorrow? That's Daine's premier!_ That's fine, Damara said instead. And - oh, Daine, there you are!  
This was directed at her young foster-daughter, who had entered the room carrying two large tumblers of ale. Her blue dress was covered with flour - as were her hands and face - and her blue-gray eyes twinkled merrily.  
She walked over to the table closest to Numair and Alanna, placed the tumblers in front of the guests; never looking up. When she did, she blanched, opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something - but bit her lip to contain the words.  
Thank you, Alanna said, slightly dubious. She took a sip of the ale. This is good! she said in surprise.  
Daine backed away, her eyes troubled; Damara laughed. Mistress Alanna, you think that brothels serve only filth? So stereotypical!  
Alanna opened her mouth to reply jokingly, but a small mewing interrupted her. She glanced at Daine, who was fumbling with the large pocket on her apron. After a moment, she drew out a tiny black kitten with bright amber eyes.  
Oh, how cute! Alanna said, grinning. Daine cocked her head slightly to the right, as if thinking hard, then whispered something to the kitten. Then she handed it to Alanna carefully.  
Her name's Annicka, she said, her Common soft and accented. I found her two days ago. Her leg was broken, mum.  
Doesn't look very broken now, Alanna said, feeling all four legs. Numair just gazed at the kitten, a dreamlike expression pasted on his face. Bones don't heal that fast, not without magic. Did you ask an animal healer with the Gift to heal the babe? Or maybe you just made a mistake.  
No, mum, Daine said, rapidly snatching Annicka back. It was broken into two, sure as I'm standing here. But I dunno how it healed so fast, mum. I fainted a moment after I found her a-lying in the ditch. She cooed something uncomprehensible to the kitten, curtsied and left, shaking her head.  
Numair still looked as if he was day-dreaming.  
Alanna stammered, not wanting to offend Damara.  
Don't be worrying about offence, Mistress! chuckled Damara. Daine's my foster-child. She's a knack with animals, that's all, no big deal. And yes, she's a wench - well, she'll be one soon enough.  
Numair suddenly stood up, his face focused once more. It's been nice meeting you, Mistress Damara, but we really must go now. Alanna and I will be here tomorrow evening, to see if we can find Graham. Good day. He left. Alanna thanked Damara and followed the mage.¤


	4. Part III

**Hi guys! Gosh, I never thought you'd like this fic _that _much! Hah! Okay, replies to some of the people who reviewed this:  
Jimmy the not-so-great:don't worry, I'll finish this! I don't want to die! :o) I'm so glad you like this story so far.  
miss julep: Yes, I _loved_ Moulin Rouge - I can't wait till my aunt sends it! It's so original and witty - confession: I cried. :o) And about the evil maharaja...well, yes, duh! There's gonna be an antagonist, sure!  
AthenaPeter: Skysong's coming - dunno when, though... glad you like the story so far. ^_~  
Rose of Kennan: Ozorne's a-coming...oh yes, he's gonna have *major* part. hahahah.  
And to all the others: I'm so *happy* you like Lady of the Silver Temple - I just hope I don't let you guys down. Umm...not to worry about me dropping this fic, cuz I wrote out the *entire* plot last night. Here's the latest chapter, from me to you, without further ado!  
PS: If you want a disclaimer, go to the first page of the fic. I'm not about to repeat what everyone knows...  
PPS: this equals thoughts. Daine thinks, Annicka hears -Annicka talks to Daine like this-  
"**

  
  
  
Part III  
**Daine**  


  
Daine stared at her wall, deep in thought. Her hands idly stroked Annicka and she hummed a soft tune.  
_Why did I freak out?_ she asked herself. _I see guys everyday - well, I see my friends with guys...I've never actually _been_ with a guy...that'll soon change..._  
With a sigh, she stood and went to her closet. She didn't open it; instead, she let her hands rest on the polished wood. Inside was the dress she was going to wear tomorrow night - she loved it.  
Her whole routine was planned out. All new hookers at the Silver Temple had to have some sort of premier, and hers was just going to be a greater affair than usual because she was Damara's foster-daughter. Daine knew every step she was going to take, every move she was going to do, every word she was going to sing...perfectly.  
_So why am I suddenly so agitated? I've talked in front of huge crowds before!_  
It was the man. And the woman. Both of them.  
_Alanna the Lioness; Numair Salmalín. Tortallans._  
She new them by reputation - everyone who could read did. They were celebrities - the first lady knight and the most powerful mage in the Eastern Lands. But it was the man who _really_ bothered her...  
_Well, not really _bothered_. He's actually very...Daine, stop it!_ She closed her eyes and rubbed them, then changed into her nightdress and crawled into bed. Annicka settled on her neck, purring loudly. Daine began to stroke her again.  
She had seen Numair before. In her dreams.  
_Badger, what does this mean?_ she mentally asked her benefactor, clutching the silver claw he had given her. Typically, he didn't answer. _So like a badger he is._  
Ever since she had come to the Silver Temple, the Badger had visited her in her dreams - and twice physically. Then, a year ago, he stopped visiting her mind - the image of a tall, dark-haired man replaced the god. Daine didn't understand those dreams; all she knew was that whenever she dreamed about him, she felt remarkably content and safe...and _controlled_. The madness was always a constant worry, even though it never showed up after Snowsdale. But it was there, waiting to catch her unawares...  
  
The kitten raised a sleepy eye.  
_Was your leg broken when I first found you?  
- Yep. Then I felt healed - that's when you fainted. But don't worry about it, please, Daine? Just don't worry about it and go to sleep. I'm a tired kitty._ -  
A smile on her face, Daine broke the connection and relaxed. All she could do was hope that Numair didn't come to her premier - when she saw him she had forgotten _everything_ for a moment...she couldn't risk that during her show. On the other hand...wouldn't it be wonderful if he...  
_Go to sleep, Daine_ she told herself sternly. _He's probably not gonna be my first. Goodnight._  
  
Daine, you look amazing! Damara said seriously. She put the brush down and pushed Daine towards the full-length mirror.  
_Is that _me_?_ Daine thought, shocked. That couldn't be _her_ reflection! But it was.  
She turned and hugged the woman she had grown to think of as her second-mother. Sure I do. Damara, this is me - an amazing person.  
I think you're a bit tipsy, Damara replied, a smile playing on her face.  
Daine shook her head. I've drunk nothing but water - I'm totally sober, Mara. Totally. What time is it?  
Er...we have about an hour before the doors open.  
Great. I have one blessed hour left as an unknown girl, Daine muttered. Her face was rather white.   
Are you scared, Daine? Damara asked, hugging her.   
A little, Daine confessed. But that's natural, right?  
Definately. But don't worry - they'll _all_ love you.  
_That's_ what I'm scared of.  
  
Well, that was pretty unconclusive, Numair told Alanna, watching the stable-boy' Graham lead their horses to a stable. I tested him - nothing! No magic whatsoever. _And_ I gave him stress - or, rather, you did - and nothing! Zilch! Whatever power he had is gone.  
Alanna, a blush dying on her cheeks, replied, What about Josie? She performed it twice.  
I don't know, Numair said quietly. But it's still too early to tell what this thing is - what's that noise?  
Alanna looked inside. There is some - oh, wait, I saw a sign saying it was that girl's premier.  
Numair's face became excited. Alanna, there's something strange about her! Some sort of magic - and _permanent_ magic! None of that stress-power' - something else.  
Numair, are you -  
Come on! We're going in! The mage grabbed the woman's hand and dragged her inside the brothel, where a huge crowd was gathering.  
People were settling themselves around a large, beautifully decorated stage. Women - probably the entertainers' of the place - were serving drinks, chattering, and eying several men. Numair and Alanna were surprised - these wenches didn't look beaten or abused - they were beautiful, well cared for, healthy-looking women who seemed to be held in awe by the men.  
The two Tortallans had to search for a few minutes before they managed to get two seats at the very back of the room. Alanna was looking extremely uncomfortable - Numair, for some strange reason, had his dream-like expression on his face and he was humming softly.  
What are you doing? Alanna muttered, kicking him gently.   
Numair snapped back to attention. Oh. I'm scrying.  
What? Here? Now? For what? demanded Alanna. Honestly, I don't see why this girl -  
Alanna, unless I am mistaken, that girl is extremely powerful, and if she isn't taught how to control her magic, she won't be the only one who gets the raw end of the deal.  
What magic?  
I'm not sure, but I think it's -  
Numair stopped talking, because it had suddenly become very quiet and the lights had dimmed. Everyone was staring at the stage in eagerness; music had started, soft at first, but getting louder and picking up a fast pace.  
The remaining light was now coming from behind a white screen that was set up on the stage. It suddenly flashed - then everyone drew in a sharp breath, as the silhouette of a woman seated on a straight-backed chair was now projected on the screen.  
_Just a little bit of love_, the silhouette sang out. _I was alone, I was afraid, I couldn't face another day of pain in my life, oh oh oh. I called your name and you were there, just like an answer to a prayer, you made it all right, oh yeah! _The shadow moved its right leg over one side of the chair, then its left leg over the other, so it was sitting on it as if it was a horse. _So I give my heart, and I give my soul to you, oh baby, I do. And now I know, I know I found the truth, o-o-oh yeah!_  
With only its legs, shadow pushed itself upright and artfully kicked the chair away; at the same time, the screen vanished. Now, the stage was possessed by a slender young woman of mid-height, dressed in a bluish-silver dress. On one side, its skirt was up to her thighs; on the other, it dragged on the floor. (A/N picture Kylie Minogue's dress when she and Robbie Williams performed Kids in the MTV Music Awards a few years ago.) Her hair was hanging loose, and only her lips and eyelids were painted.  
She walked to the edge of the stage, still singing. _Just a little bit of love's gonna turn it around, a little bit of love can do it. And just a little bit of love's gonna turn it around, and around, and around, oh yeah!_  
Swaying her body to the music, she peformed a small dance, then picked up the song. _I found the truth, I found the way, I'm standing in the light of day, I got the power. I'm not worried any longer, no, I'm only getting stronger by the hour. You can move a mountain, or calm the stormy sea. There's no doubt about, I truly do believe...Just a little bit of love's gonna turn it around, a little bit of love can do it. And just a little bit of love's gonna turn it around, and around, and around, oh yeah! Just a little bit of love's gonna turn it around, a little bit of love can do it. And just a little bit of love's gonna turn it around, and around, and around, oh yeah!_  
By this point, she had gotten off the stage and was now weaving her way through the sea of chairs and tables. She stopped at one man, twined her (uncovered, unskirted) right leg around his neck and brought her face close to his. _And it can free your mind._  
She moved a chair closer to where the Tortallans were, selected another man, ran her fingers through his hair. _Yes, it can free you soul_. Then she rapidly pulled away and extended her arms. _Yes, it can free your mind, and it can free your - so-u-l!_  
The woman - yes, it's Daine - twirled prettily and ended up looking at the Tortallans' direction. _Free your soul, let it go, let it go, just a bit of love, just a little bit of love, yeah... _She blew a kiss to no one in general, whirled, and started to march back to the stage, pausing a few times to caress a random guy. _Just a little bit of love's gonna turn it around, a little bit of love can do it. And just a little bit of love's gonna turn it around, and around, and around, oh yeah!_  
With surprising agility, Daine leaped back to the stage, began to inch towards the chair, then slowly and artistically draped herself on it. _Just a little bit of love's gonna turn it around, a little bit of love can do it. And just a little bit of love's gonna turn it around, and around, and around, oh yeah! Just a little bit of love...  
_Silence...then, like a wave crashing against a cliff, there was applause. The entertainers' were all laughing and clapping, congratulating their newest sister', while the men were whistling and calling for more.  
Daine pulled herself off the chair and bowed, a dazzled grin on her face. Thank you, she called.  
She was joined by Damara, who looked magnificent in a dark green dress that fit her like a second skin. And the Silver Temple's ranks are increased by the lovely Daine Sarrasri!  
The cheers and whistles from the men grew louder. A slight blush worked itself onto Daine's face - it deepened when people started calling out for encores.  
Damara, playing the lovely host, clapped a hand behind an ear. What's this? You want an encore? I don't know - it's up to Daine. Daine?  
Daine asked, smiling hugely.  
Will you do an encore for these adoring fans of yours?  
The younger woman tilted her head to the side and regarded the audience. Maybe - what type of song would you people like to hear? Another fast one, or a slow, lovey-dovey song?  
There were several shouted suggestions. After listening for a few seconds, Daine held up her hand. Enough, enough; I know what I'll sing.  
There's a girl. Damara got off the stage and returned to her table.  
After a quickly whispered discussion with the musicians, Daine returned to her chair. But instead of draping herself so that everyone could see her body, she crossed her legs and leaned back modestly. Then the music started - it was soft, slow, slightly sad...  
_If ever a boy stood on the moon, all the heavens would call their angels round. Stop the tears from troubled skies from falling. If ever the river could whisper your name, would the choices you make still be the same, like a flower that dies from angry rain? Why do we hurt ourselves? Where is the love that lets the sunlight in to start again? A love that sees no color lines, life that begins with love, so spread your wings and fly, guide your spirit safe and sheltered, a thousand dreams that we can still believe...  
_The music cleared away the excitement that Daine had caused in the beginning. Now, everyone was captivated - several had tears in their eyes. Alanna was clenching her jaw, not wanting to break down; Numair was listening carefully, his dream-like face on once more.  
_If ever a boy stood on the moon, carrying all of his treasures from the stars, to a rainbow which leads to where we are, together we chase the sun. Where is the love that lifts my brother's voice to the skies? A love that answers a mother's cry, life begins with love, so spread your wings and fly, guide your spirit safe and sheltered, a thousand dreams that we can still believe.  
_Daine stood up. _A boy stood on the moon, the ancient souls can still discover a thousand dreams that we can still believe. That we can still believe... _She bowed; the cheers rose once more. Thank you, everyone!  
Wasn't that wonderful? Damara asked loudly. Well, that's it. Now you can go do what you like to do - what you're best at. Get at it!  
Come on, muttered Numair to Alanna. They rose to their feet and struggled to get closer to the stage, which proved to be a small problem, as several of the wenches thought that Numair was there to have a good time. After a few polite words from Numair - and several threats from Alanna - they got to the stage - but Daine had disapeared.  
Looking for her? Damara asked. Alanna and Numair whirled; the mistress of the brothel was sipping delicately from a glass filled with scarlet wine. If I'm not mistaken, I think she's backstage. The dressing rooms. Hurry up, as she still has to go chose a guy. Go on.  
That Damara is very odd, Alanna said quietly as they were walking to the dressing rooms. How did she know?  
Dunno. Wait - she's in here.  
How do you know that?  
She talking to the cat. Listen.  
Alanna pressed her ear to the indicated door and heard a one-sided conversation.  
amazing time. But now I have to go find a guy and have some funyes, of course I'm nervouswhat? How did youyes, they were there, at the very back. Yes, they were watchingAnnicka, are you sure you're not a god-sending - how do you know about the dreams and that _he'_s in it? And howsomeone's outside?  
Alanna jumped back, but too late. The door opened and Daine stepped out, a curious look on her face. She was wearing a simple blue dress, her hair was in a simple braid. she greeted them in her soft voice. Are you lost?  
we were just looking for you, Alanna stammered.  
Really? Are they wanting me back onstage? Daine sighed. I hope not.  
No, that's not it. Mistress Damara's girls have taken over, Alanna told her.  
So why are you looking for me?  
We need to talk, Numair said suddenly.   
Daine's face was suddenly haggard. She looked as if she was going to faint. Gods...okay, let's go to my room. Come on.  
She led them up several flights of stairs, then entered a large, comfortable chamber. Her eyes troubled, she perched on the bed, stroking the kitten as if her life depended on it.  
You're Alanna the Lioness, and you're Numair Salmalín, right? she suddenly demanded. They exchanged glances.  
replied Alanna. But how -  
Your reputations proceed you, Daine answered with a grin. It's not everyday when a lady knight and a black-robe come to Cría.  
  
So what do you want?  
At that, Alanna shrugged. I dunno. Numair's the one who does, though - Numair, mind telling us?  
Have you ever heard of wildmagic, Daine?  
The girl frowned. Never. What is it? Is it what that strange new magic that people are suddenly getting is called?  
Numair replied, shaking his head. Most people don't believe in wildmagic - but that's because there are hardly anymore people who have it.  
What does it entail?Daine asked, the adult language sounding odd, as it contrasted with her commoner accent and her young, sweet face.  
With a wistful grin, Numair replied, It depends on how much wildmagic a person has. For example, an individual with a hell of a lot of wildmagic can heal animals, communicate with them, bend them to their will, use an animal's senses as they would use their own, and shapeshift. The few people who have wildmagic today can only communicate with only one type of animal and do some minor healings. Things like that.  
So...wildmagic is connected to the natural world?  
Yes, and, unlike the Gift, it can never be drained. Well, it can be contained, or the bearer of the powerful can overwork himself to a faint, but the magic is never gone.  
Daine didn't reply. Instead, she gazed at Annicka carefully, choosing her words. Alanna glanced at Numair; he was looking at the younger woman intensely.  
What are you trying to imply? Daine asked softly. That I have wildmagic?  
The knight held her breath as Numair nodded. Numair, you never mentioned this.  
I wasn't sure, he admitted. When Daine first brought the ale, I thought I had gone senile - but then she showed us the kitten -  
Ah, the kitten. How did the babe heal so fast?  
His dark eyes fixed on Annicka, Numair slowly said, The kitten was so in need that Daine's magic was just..._sucked_ out of her. As she is unaccustomed to that, she fainted.  
Daine's mouth was a perfect _O_. After a moment, she closed it and whispered, That's why...  
That's why what? Alanna asked; Daine shook her head.  
Never mind. So what do I do with this magic? I have no idea how to work it.  
Numair spread his hands with a huge grin. That's what we're here for.¤


	5. Part IV

**Hi, ya'll. *yawn* I'm reall sleepy - tons of English h/w and swimming...*yawn* So forgive me if this chapter isn't as good as you had hoped - I think it's pretty boring. Basically, it's Daine explaining her maddness. That's it.  
Also, I made Cloud die. *wince* Yes, it's true. I just can't fit a grumpy pony into this story. Please, please don't complain - I'm so stressed that I'll just burst into tears *sniff sniff*  
Happy reading!   
:o)  
îÎ@FºîÎ@Fº**

  
  
  
Part IV  
**Lessons  
**

  
You never mentioned this, Alanna said once again, quietly. She and Numair were riding back to King Trystam's palace. It was dark; the sky was clear and the wind was cold. The two Tortallan's were tired from the day's excitement.  
Numair considered his words carefully before replying. Alanna's soft voice implied that she was _not_ happy about being kept in the dark. I wasn't sure, he said at last.  
The knight snorted. What a load of tripe. You knew since the moment you set eyes on that girl! Turning serious, she asked, Why didn't you tell me?  
sighed Numair.  
The woman's voice was firm, backed by her voice.  
Numair said the word grimly, then kicked his horse into a slow canter. Alanna mouthed the word, confused, then rushed to catch up with him.  
she demanded. What spies? We're in _Galla_, Numair; they are one of the more peaceful and least advanced countries in the East! Moreover, they're allied to _us_! _What_ spies?  
Numair gave her one long, hard look; suddenly, the knight understood.  
No, Numair. It's impossible, Alanna snorted again. It's improbable; it's unlikely that he's heard of the magical-mutation. How would he have heard of _Daine_, a simple _prostitute_? Numair, I really think you should get your facts straight.  
You never know. The man's insane - oh, hi, Colonel, mind letting us in? They had reached the palace's gates; the burly soldier known as Colonel Cliff grunted and gave the all-clear' sign. A moment later, the gates opened. Silently, the Tortallans rode in. They left their horses with the hostlers, trudged back to their rooms, and fell asleep without another word to each other.  
  
Wakey, wakey!  
The whisper was _very_ close to her ears. Daine winced, then opened her eyes slowly, blinking at the light.   
Morning, child, greeted Damara, smiling widely. She was sitting on the edge of the room's overlarge beds. A tray of steaming pastries, fresh fruits, orange juice, and a steaming mug of some drink, lay next to her.  
With a small groan, Daine pushed herself to a sitting position. What time is it?  
Eleven in the morning, was the prompt - almost smug - reply.  
Daine yelped. Why did you let me sleep in - I've chores!  
Damara said quietly, her humor gone. Daine, listen to me. You're a full-fledged courtesan - a grown woman, no longer a _child_. You _have_ no chores - unless you want them. Chores are for the trainees...and you are no longer a trainee.  
Daine stared at the woman who had given her a home and love, lots of it, when she had thought herself doomed. She stared so long that Damara cracked up.  
Gods, Daine, it's like you're not happy! Here - eat! She pushed the tray towards Daine, who accepted it and quickly began to polish off the food.  
So who did you chose last night? Damara inquired. Daine swallowed down a piece of juicy orange (ummm...I'm addicted to oranges...*grin*), blushed, and mumbled something.  
What? I can't hear you.  
Jean Christianson, repeated the younger woman, her face a bright crimson.  
He's good, murmured Damara. Very nice to the ladies. And?  
And what? snapped Daine, sounding irritated.  
How was he?  
It's not like I have a basis for comparison, Mara! Daine said curtly. Then her expression softly. Wonderful. Just wonderful. In fact, I was wondering who was the customer...  
Damara's eyes widened in alarm. Don't go falling in love with him, she warned. It happens to every woman - she thinks that the first man she sleeps with is the man she thinks she's destined to marry. Don't. I'm not saying you shouldn't have fond feelings for Jean - he's a great man - but don't go breaking your heart over him.  
Sighing, Daine replied, I know, I know, rule number 5. Never fall in love.  
See that you remember.  
Yes ma'am.  
Oh, shut up.  
Yes ma'am.  
  
They laughed.  
  
_Where_ is she? muttered Numair, drumming his fingers on his lap, his nerves a-fire with tension. From across the room, Alanna looked up from her book, snorted, and said something uncomprehensible.  
I didn't quite catch what you said, Numair told her, voice sarcastic.  
Didn't saying nothing, replied Alanna, her eyes wide with innocence.  
Right. Where _is_ she?  
With a sigh, Alanna got up and approached the man, eyes twinkling with amusement. Numair, Daine's a _commoner_. I don't think the guards will let her in without _some_ fuss.  
If this was Tortall - began Numair impatienly; Alanna interrupted him with a shake of her head.  
This _isn't_ Tortall, bubo; don't forget that. Now -  
Sorry I'm late! cried a different voice; the two Tortallans turned towards the door of their common room, where they saw Daine entering, cheeks flushed with anger.  
It's alright. What held you?  
Apparently, some of them guards up front have heard of me, snapped Daine. She pulled off the hood of her cloak, shook out her slightly frosted curls, then peeled off the cloak entirely, revealing a long skirt, heavy boots, and a thick sweater. She pulled off her gloves and scarf and deposited them on the table at the center of the room, then grinned at the stunned Alanna and Numair.  
_And_ it's snowing - traffic outside's worse than usual. So, shall we begin?  
replied Alanna uncertainly. Well, I guess I should leave you to the master at this sort of thing - call me when you're done. Shaking her head, she entered her room and locked the door.  
Is she always so brisk?  
Numair flicked his eyes toward Daine. She looked rather abashed.   
Daine shrugged. She doesn't seem to like me.   
Numair laughed. She likes you very much. But she just met you - she always acts like that at first. You have to give her time.  
Very well, the young woman sighed. Then she visibly brightened. I've been on my toes ever since you told me about my magic. Can we start now?  
If you'd like -  
I do.  
  
The days passed quickly after the first lesson. Numair had no trouble getting Daine to communicate with animals with her mind - the young woman had confided that she had always thought' things and the animals had thought' back. She had also eaten up the books given to her. But getting Daine to meditate and do some spring cleaning' was an entirely different matter.  
What do you have against meditation? Alanna demanded, after one small arguement. Looking ashamed, Daine fixed her eyes on her hands and shook her head.  
Numair tells me that you can't progress with your magic if you don't meditate, continued the knight. He also tells me that you don't do it properly, on the rare occasions that you _do_ do it. What's wrong?  
began Daine. Her troubled blue eyes met Alanna's violet ones. I...what do you know about me?  
The older woman frowned. You came here after your mother and grandfather were killed by bandits. You came to Cría, looking for a job, and got adopted' by Damara. After a while, you accepted a position as a trainee in the Silver Temple.  
That's all true, Daine mumbled. But there's another side to the story.  
Oh really?  
Yes. I was alone for three days after I found my entire household slaughtered. I buried my ma and grandda and the animals. I was _alone_ - no _human_ came to help me. The companionship I had was my pony. Cloud. She paused, lips tight with the painful memories. When the three days were up, some villagers came to check on me. _Three days!_ If my ma had been well, she'd be in the village, helping and healing! But _them_...no. When I saw them, I went mad. I attacked them, then ran off. I joined the local wolf pack; when they heard that _humans_ had attacked my family, they swore to kill them bandits. They did - and I was with them. By then, I had totally forgotten that I was a human, not a four-legger. I went around naked, on all fours. Cloud was the one that kept me alive - see? She revealed a slightly scarred arm. One day, I decided that it had to stop - that was the day after Cloud had died from the extreme weather. I couldn't face the wilderness without my companion. So I left. I went to the remains of my house, grabbed whatever I found there, and went to Cría. That's when Damara found me. So, you see, I can't go deep in that meditation, I just can't. Because that maddness is there, waiting for me. And this time, Cloud won't be here to keep me in touch with my human-ess.  
Thanks for finally telling us, Numair said; Daine and Alanna jumped. The tall mage was shutting the door softly, his face rueful. I'm sorry that I had to resort to this, but Daine kept on throwing fits every time I asked her about meditating.  
Daine blushed. I'm sorry, she whispered. Badger _told_ me that I should have listened to you, but I'm was stupid.  
chorused the Tortallans.   
The god of badgers, Daine replied seriously. He visits me in my dreams. After Cloud died, he showed up. He gave me his claw, see? She pulled out a delicate chain. Dangling from it was a large, solid silver claw.  
Although he looked unbearably excited, Numair's voice was rather calm when he said, Daine, I can fix that fear you have.  
You can? gasped Daine, her expression one of complete shock.   
Yes. I've never seen someone organize their power as fast as you have. Now, you have two distinct parts - your human-self, and your magic. I can just create a barrier in your mind that will protect you from the magic - Daine, there never was any maddness.  
What? But what about -  
Daine, listen here. That was Alanna, her voice firm and gentle. I haven't found one seed of insanity in you. Not one. And trust me - I know insanity when I see it.  
Daine looked at Numair for confirmation; he nodded.  
It's true. Will you let me make you that barrier?  
Hesitantly, the young woman nodded.   
Numair sat across from her, reached over and placed his hands on her temples. Now, just like meditation...  
¤


	6. Part V

**Had to write this one is a hurry - I have a science test tomorrow and I forgot to bring my notes to study!!! No!!! So my friend has to fax them to me - but she writes in _yellow_ for God's sake...ugh...so here're two more chapters, quite short. I apologize if they seem boring - but before the conflicts, you gotta have some sort of introduction of elements! :o)  
Happy reading!  
**

  
Part V  
  
  


Someone's at the door.  
I know.  
Aren't you going to do anything about it?  
  
Why not?  
Does the word black-robe' mean anything to you?  
The knocking increased.  
Will you _please_ go get that?  
  
Please, please, _please_?  
I already told you - no.  
But why?  
It's nine in the morning; the day I go answering doors at nine in the morning is the day you lapdance for me.  
Alanna glared at Numair before thrusting her chair back and stomping to the door. While she unlocked it, she mentally listed a number of things she would do to her very powerful and...tall...friend.  
  
Startled from her thoughts, Alanna met the soft eyes of a timid maid, made even meeker by the presence of the stocky knight.  
May I help you?  
The maid swallowed before replying in accented Common. M'lady, his majesty, King Trystam, told me to give this to you and Master Salmalín. She handed Alanna a small wooden tube; Alanna immediately recognized the maker of its protection spell.  
Thank you very much, she murmured. The maid curtsied and bustled away. Looking thoughtful, Alanna closed the door and returned to her seat.  
Who is it from? Numair demanded, looking up from his bowl of fruit salad.  
  
What's it say?  
Quickly, Alanna pulled a piece of parchment from the tube, unrolled it, and skimmed down the rows of angular handwriting. she hissed.  
Dark eyes concerned, Numair pushed his fruit aside. What's wrong?   
Wordlessly, Alanna handed him the letter. Rapidly, Numair read it. Oh no.  
Tusaine. The River Drell. _Again_. Alanna unsheathed her dagger and began to clean it with a napkin. Jonathan wants us back in Corus by the fortnight, pronto. I'll wager he's going to send me with the old group - Raoul, Gary. Jon won't be fighting. The Own would have fits. A dry smile twisted Alanna's lips.   
Duke Hilam?  
His son. Probably a runt like me.  
  
Alanna flicked a banana peel at Numair; he brushed it aside with a graceful hand. Rotten blood runs true, I suppose. With a sigh, she got up and moved to the window, where she stretched.  
Do we have to go? inquired Numair, starting on some pastries. Alanna nodded.  
We have to be in Corus by the full moon.  
What about Daine? I'm in the middle of her training - I can't just drop it all and go to some war against the Tusainis.  
It's the king's command, Alanna replied softly.  
The king's command, the king's command, echoed Numair in a sarcastic voice. Then he sighed. I know. Do you think we could bring her with us?  
Alanna shook her head. This is her home. She'll never want to leave. Why don't you tell her what to do - we'll be back when the war is over.  
If you say so.  
  
Daine stared at her two new friends in disbelief. she squeaked.   
Tomorrow morning, yes. With this weather, it'll be almost impossible to get across the mountain borders. Alanna's violet eyes were filled with a plea for understanding. Daine, please, realize that Numair and I don't want to go. We'd love to stay here and complete your training but -  
Unless you'd like to come with us to Tortall, Numair broke in, voice excited. Maybe -  
Daine was already shaking her head. I can't, she whispered. This is my home now. I have a job, friends, _family_. I'm sorry, Numair, but I just can't. Not yet.  
Alanna punched Numair on the arm. I _told_ you. Would you listen? _Nooo_.  
I had to try, retorted the mage, rubbing his arm. But we'll be back when this blows over, so that's alright. Right, Daine?  
I guess. But how long will this war take?  
That's impossible to determine, Alanna admitted. But we _will_ be back to finish your training. I promise. She extended her hand. You have our oaths.  
Hesitantly, Daine took the offered hand, and shook it. What will I do when you two are away?  
I've prepared a lesson plan, declared Numair, pulling out a thick book from seemingly nowhere. He placed it on the table between them. Inside is the plan. The book itself is the one on animal anatomy - I want you to have it. There's also a list of experiments you can do, if you think the time is right. Suddenly, he sighed. I really wish this wasn't happening, magelet, but that's life for you.  
echoed Alanna, staring at her friend, who smiled back.  
It's a nickname for me, said Daine, cheeks pink. Numair was...er...rather inspired during one of our lessons...  
Ah. I see, muttered Alanna. _I also see that it's time to have a little chat about the birds and the bees with our friend Numair Salmalín_. Outloud, she said, Well, Daine, as much as I'd love to stay, Numair and I really have to get packed and ready to go. Her voice filled with genuine regret. I'm sorry Daine, I truly am, but who am I to disobey my king's command?  
Numair snorted delicately behind his hand; Alanna kicked him under the table.   
Daine, smiling hugely, nodded. It's been a pleasure meeting and working with you, Lioness, she began, starting to get up. And I wish you luck against them Tusainis.  
Without warning, Alanna hugged her, gave her a motherly kiss on the cheek, then stood aside. She looked pointedly at Numair and tapped her feet on the floor.  
Here's the stuff, Numair said, handing Daine the book. Keep on meditating. And...er...well, good luck with your self-training. Bye. He hugged her briefly, stepped back as if he'd been burned, and left the common room of the Silver Temple.  
Never mind him; Numair's always sucked at goodbyes, Alanna reassured Daine.  
It's all right, the young courtesan replied. Good b-  
Daine, if anything happens, anything at all, don't hesitate to write me. Understand? Alanna demanded, voice serious. I know some courtesans back in Corus, and not all of them have the gentlest of customers. If any one hurts you, or threatens you, or whatever else, _write me_; I have a strong voice in the courts around the Eastern Lands.  
Thank you, Alanna, whispered Daine. But don't worry - I'm too expensive to abuse. Trust me. Everything will be fine.  
With a nod and a smile, Alanna departed, leaving Daine alone with her last words - which were, at the time, quite correct. 


	7. Part VI

**Part VI**  
  


_Three months later_  
  
Alanna brushed sopping hair out of her eyes for what seemed the hundredth time. She was trying to concentrate on the map of the Drell Valley showing positions of troops - and failing miserably. Exhaustion was threatening to permanently close down her system.  
And to make matters worse was Numair. He was mumbling into a small black flame that hovered over his hand.  
Numair, will you _shut up?_ she growled, whirling around to confront the mage. Instead of giving her a stinging response, Numair continued talking at an amazing speed, his tone of voice at times excited and nervous.  
Alanna didn't bother to reply her request. She sat down on one of the rough stools found randomly around the camp, and listened half-heartedly to the conversation.  
Eventually, she heard a yell come from Numair. Eyes flicked open; hand reached for sword - but all she saw was Numair, pale with shock, snapping something at his hand. Then he gestured; the flame disappeared.  
What's wrong? Alanna yawned.  
Look at the northern post, was the curt reply.  
Puzzled, Alanna strode out of the tent - regardless of the heavy rain - aimed her eyes towards the northern post - and gasped with horror. Then she ran back inside.  
What _are_ those things!?! she half-shrieked, half-whispered.  



	8. Part Seven

*snifflz* I'm so touched - this story has the most reviews of all of my fics! And this was just a _backup_ to my Death Mark'd Love...looks like the tables are turning.  
I need to warn you guys about something (two somethings, actually).  
**1.** My internet server (host - terminology...who cares?) is closing down. I've already signed up for a new one, but in Portugal, things are *s-l-o-w*. So there might be a period of...I dunno how long...that I'm away. It took me more than six months to get this server....*grrr* But don't worry - if I'm cut off from you guys, I'll be writing 24-7...ok, now I'm exaggerating...but since I have a whole WEEK off...*thinks*  
**2.** You are free to take my stories and post them on your Tortall site. All I ask is a way for the reader to contact me (my e-addy is bigego_13@hotmail.com ) and for you to tell me what your site is. K?  
**3.** I know, I know, I only said two things...but since Daine _is_ a hooker...there will be...er...'steamy' scenes...I might have to post them as different fics or change the story's entire rating. What should I do??? Tell me when u review, k?  
Oh, some more things to say: sorry if the part where Daine explains her maddness is kinda...'short'. Sorry - but you've the books, dontcha?  
And...er...I've really speed time up - I couldn't be bothered discribing how Daine learns her magic. I'm telling you now that she's managed to learn how to use an animal's senses as her own - let's leave it at that. And the country Zallara is part of the Carthaki Empire (it's TP's invention - I found the name in EM).  
~ happy reading!  
**_Giovanna xoxo_**  
  
  
^íÃÞ

**Part VII**  
  


One morning in early spring, Daine found Damara bent over a table. She was shuffling through a pile of papers. Every so often, she would scribble a few things down on a form - a form which Daine recognized.  
It's that time of year again? she asked her foster mother. Startled, Damara met her blue eyes and smiled dryly.  
It sure is. Seven of my girls got themselves engaged - five of them are married at present. I only have two ladies, and you, working here. _And_ me. That makes four courtesans in the most famous brothel of the Eastern Lands!  
Four very _good_ courtesans, corrected Daine, pulling up a chair and glancing curiously at the transferal forms. Pichi the Kisser, Valentina My Valentine, Damara Janasri, me -  
grinned Damara. You. Bedbug.  
Daine blushed. I hate that name.  
Why? I think it's cute! With a sigh, Damara looked at one of the papers. Do you know someone called Midsummer? She's got very good recommendations.  
Midsummer? Yeah, my friend over at the Squealing Harlot (remember that inn' Alanna and Numair passed as they made their way to the Gallan royal palace?). Her real name's Juliana Tomeksri.  
How much does she make a week?  
Twenty gold pieces, which is quite good considering she didn't have first class training. Actually, Juliana told me that she had no training at all!  
Damara pursed her lips. Interesting. I'll tell Mistress Catherine, over at the Squealing Harlot, to hand her over in exchange for some...stuff.  
Daine blushed again, but asked instead, How many girls are you going to take as trainees?  
At least four. I've already had two girls from a closed-down brothel transferred here. Juliana makes three. I need another.  
With a nod, Daine looked through more of the papers. Anyone in mind?  
Damara shrugged. As long as she's pretty and young. Of course, I wouldn't say nay to an exotic looking girl!  
Does Suratamangari' sound exotic enough for you? inquired Daine, shoving a form under Damara's nose. She isn't fixed to any particular brothel and she's quite young - eighteen.  
Damara pursed her lips. That's a Zallaran name, I think.  
It is. The thing says she earns twenty-five gold pieces a week. Pretty good.  
Damara bent down and scribbled something down. Go give these, she added, gesturing to the forms, to the owners of the brothels. Tell them I want the girls before in three days.  
  
Daine found herself laughing silently when she got her first glimpse of the four assembled trainees. They all looked so terrified!  
_Well, they should be_ she thought dryly. _After all, they _are_ in the presence of the owner of the most famous brothel in the Eastern Lands!_  
The two girls pulled from the liquidated brothel were twins. Both were tall and willowy, with creamy white skin. They both had shockingly blonde hair that reached their waists, and bright, sky-blue eyes, fringed with pale lashes.  
The girl who called herself Suratamangari was of medium height, but her figure was full. She had a dark olive complexion, silky black hair, and ebony eyes that were as soft as a deer's. Her lips were ruddy, and she wore bright silks that smelled slightly of incense.  
Then there was Juliana Tomeksri, one of Daine's dearest friends. Juliana, also known as Midsummer, was quite tall. Her skin was darkly tanned from months spent in the sun. Her rich golden hair fell down her back in soft waves, and her emerald eyes were sharp. Her face was constructed with high cheekbones, a delicate chin, and full, soft lips.  
_Compared to them three, I'm just pretty'_ Daine thought gloomily. _I can't compete with their curves and hair. _My_ hair is just a mess of brown curls._ With that depressing thought, Daine sat down and smiled weakly at Damara. She had just bustled in, elegant in a crimson gown, and positioned herself in front of the four trainees, who were sitting in a class-like formation before a blackboard.  
Good morning, girls! she began cheerfully.  
There was a replying mumble.  
Why are you so nervous? Damara demanded. You've already worked as courtesans!  
Then why are we here as _trainees_? asked Suratamangari in a sour voice.  
replied Damara, her voice matching the trainee's in vinegar, you worked as _third-class_ courtesans. You weren't even courtesans! You were _prostitutes_, and cheap ones at that. You especially.  
gasped Suratamangari. Why me?  
You played with men on the streets,Damara said shortly. And _that_, girls, is the easiest way to find yourself dead. With no brothel to back you up, you're as good as gone. No woman who wishes to become a top-notch courtesan plays with men in dark alleys. You must take pride in your work. Remember that.  
Daine hid a grin. She'd heard that lecture many times, and felt a wee bit sorry for the others.  
So, let's start introductions, continued Damara. You all know me. I'm Damara Janasri, head of the Silver Temple. That's Daine Sarrasri, otherwise known as Bedbug. She gestured to her foster-daughter, who ducked her head. Hopefully, you _all_ will turn out the way she did - but then again, I got Daine when she was thirteen. Compared to that, you're all _old_.  
Daine frowned. _She _got _me when I was thirteen? She _got _me? That can't be right..._ She shook away those disturbing thoughts and returned her attention to the class.  
You two, Damara called, gesturing at the twins. Names please, and titles, if you have any. Any other information would be nice, too.  
The twins stood. Suddenly, Daine noticed one of them had a small scar under her right eye - handy for identification purposes.  
My birth name is Kara Mariansri, the one without the scar began. Her voice was low and smooth. Sometimes, they call me Strawberry.  
I'm Hannah, said the other, meeting Damara's eyes squarely. Hannah Mariansri. They call me Raspberry. Some men back at the our ex-brothel liked to have both of us at the same time.  
Smart of them, granted Damara. You two are so alike. You may sit; you, your name, please.  
Juliana stood gracefully. I'm Juliana Tomeksri. I was labeled as Midsummer' because that's when I'm most active. The Squealing Harlot always throws Midsummer parties - good for business, they are. She flashed a dazzling smile and sat. Immediately, Suratamangari got up. In her pleasantly accented voice, she began,  
I come from Zallara. Before I escaped my owners, I worked as a lesser concubine for one of the minor princes of Carthak. Then I came here. No one wanted to hire me. Sure, I got some part-time deals, but it was mostly working in the dark alleyways.  
Just out of curiosities sake, piped up Daine, what does Suratamangari' mean?  
Suratamangari smiled crookedly. She is one of our goddesses of love and passion. Most of you northerners find it a mouthful - you may call me Mangar.  
Daine nodded her thanks, then returned her attention to Damara, who was tapping a manicured finger impatiently against her thigh.  
Thank you, she said after a moment of silence. Now that you know who we are, and we know who you are, we can begin.  
Hannah raised her hand. Mistress Damara?  
  
What exactly will we be learning here? We already know our trade.  
Damara's eyes were searching as she replied, But do you know how to care for yourselves? You and your sisters have coarse skin - washing dishes? You all are underfed - Juliana, are you anorexic?  
Juliana's blush answered the question.  
Your body is the only one you're getting. Damara's voice cracked like a whip. Love your body - and use it as many ways as you can...but _wisely_. I don't care if you think you are too fat, too thin, too tall, too short - it's _your_ body, yours for the rest of your life. It's a gift from the gods.  
Juliana, Hannah, Kara, and Mangar all looked down. They winced when Damara added in a quiet voice,  
Anyone who works here and tries to change her body in a harmful way will be kicked out. Publicly.  
Daine hid another grin. That lecture was another old one - the only way to change one's body in a healthy' manner, in Damara's opinion, was exercise. A lot of it. So when her foster-mother handed out activity schedules, she thanked the gods it wasn't her who was receiving the training.  
  
Later that week, Juliana found Daine lying extended on her bed, eyes level to a bird's. Daine was silent - then she suddenly burst out laughing.  
May I? she asked the bird; a small falcon. It screeched and Daine grinned.  
My thanks. Then she closed her eyes. A minute or two passed - suddenly, she flicked them open and searched the room.  
Juliana nearly fainted. Daine no longer had stormy blue eyes - they were the hawk's yellow! She must have made some noise, as the bird screeched again and Daine jerked. Her eyes resumed their normal color.  
she gasped, steadying herself. What - how?  
You - your - your _eyes_! cried Juliana, landing heavily on the bed. What happened?  
Daine's expression was one of concern. Juliana, you mustn't tell anyone. No one but Damara knows - it must stay that way! Don't tell; swear to me you won't tell!  
But what _was_ that? whispered Juliana, taking deep breaths.  
Blue eyes begging for understanding, Daine whispered, I have magic. It's called wildmagic, and it lets me communicate with all animals. Recently, I began to practice shaping something of me into an animal. Thus the eyes. _Now swear you won t tell_!  
With a sigh, Juliana pledged, In the name of Mithros, I pledge never to reveal the nature of your power. Happy?  
Daine nodded.  
Good. What did the bird say?¤


	9. Part Eight

Here's the next part - short and sweet. *grinz* I think the Trystam is the hottest man I've ever _invented_. But he's no match for Numair/Neal/Ozorne/an-unbearded-Roger/Joren/Dom/Numair/Numair/Numair (see my profile for my opinion on the Tortallan guys). Oh, one more thing to say - **_DIE YUKI, DIE YUKI, DIE YUKI, DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_**  
~happy reading  
**_Giovanna xoxo_****  
fíÄ^**

  
Part VIII  
  


_A few months later..._  
  
King Trystam regarded his reflection. He unconsciously fingered the ring of his House; the woman who lay in his bed noticed and instantly knew that he was nervous.  
What's wrong, Majesty? she asked in her smooth voice.  
Startled, Trystam glanced at her and smiled. After his affair with Damara, he though no woman could satisfy him. But sixth months after his Tortallans left, he had paid a visit' to the Silver Temple. There he had met her.  
Nothing's wrong, sweet, he replied, smiling. The lady felt her heart speed up - that smile lit up his all-too perfect face and made it human.  
You are such a bad liar, she scolded softly. Come on. Tell me what's wrong.  
With a sigh, Tristan returned his eyes to the mirror. Carefully, he settled the sapphire-studded thin silver circlet - a Gallan legacy - on his head. He smoothed his rich brown hair. The Carthaki delegation is arriving today.  
What's wrong with that? You have delegations coming here practically everyday.  
The Emperor is with them, Trystam muttered.  
How bad is that? Monarchs have visited before.  
Ozorne is one of the most powerful men the world, responded Trystam quietly. And besides that, I'm suspicious.  
Of what?  
Trystam turned to his lover and smiled at her again. I shouldn't worry you with my problems, dearest.  
What are you suspicious of? repeated the woman, undaunted.  
Ruefully, Trystam realized that he would have to answer. Carthak is not on the friendliest terms with Tortall. Galla is one of Tortall allies. And now that Tortall is at war with Tusaine He sighed, then continued, And the magical problem _still_ hasn't been resolved. Now do you understand why I'm so nervous?  
She nodded; Trystam felt his love of her swell. She was so perfect, so gentle - so _understanding_. She was his love.¤


	10. *Part Nine*

**Introducing...Ozorne (I'm sorry, but I couldn't have a fanfic without him). And I think I reveal just *who* King Trystam's love' is *grinz evilly*  
Unfortunately, it's just one chapter at the moment - I'm still working on part X.   
~*~ Happy reading!  
_Giovanna xoxo  
  
_   
þî?bzþî?bz**

  
Part IX  


  
Let's review the plan, proclaimed Master Chioké, glancing at his emperor for aproval. Ozorne nodded, his thoughts somewhere else. Reassured, Chioké cleared his throat and began yattering away.  
After a few moments, Ozorne snapped his fingers. The carriage stopped; his council looked at him in surprise. Without a word, Ozorne stepped out of the carriage.  
Bring me my horse! he called, looking forward. Immediately, a rider from the procession trotted up, a magnificent ebony gelding strung behind him. Ozorne accepted the reins and mounted without help. Then he kneed the animal towards the beginning of the line of imperial soldiers, nodded curtly. They started to move again.  
Master Chioké had gone over the plans over and over again - Ozorne was sick and tired of it. That's why he left the carriage. Besides, he didn't have to explain himself to anyone - he was the _emperor_, by Mithros, Mynoss, and Shakith!  
_It is so damn cursed _cold_ in this country!_ he thought for the hundreth time, rubbing his arms. _How can these people live here?_  
Who cared. Ozorne was there to investigate' the magical sickness and go home. There was no way he was going to waste his valuable time in this savage country!  
  
Trystam was settling himself in his massive throne when his uncle, Duke Christer, stopped by his shoulder.  
They're here, the elder man muttered before moving into the ranks of assembled nobles. Trystam sighed and caught his lover's eye - she was among the numerous ladies-in-waiting, dressed in an emerald green gown that fit her like a second skin. When she realized he was looking at her, she grinned and licked her upper lip; Trystam took heart in that and straightened himself.  
After a few moments, the herald posted at the doors banged his metal-shod staff on the ground three times, before announcing in a booming voice,  
In the name of Mithros and the Mother, I present to you, ladies, gentlemen, and noble knights, His Most Serene and Imperial Majesty, Ozorne Muhassin Tasikhe, Emperor of Carthak and of the Empire of Carthak...  
Trystam stiffled a yawn just in time; the doors suddenly swung open. Then, two parallel lines of troops - all dressed in crimson kilts and gold-washed armor - marched into the room. In between the lines was a tall, broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted man. He was dressed in loose black silken trousers, which were tucked into knee-high black leather boots. A gray cotton shirt was only slightly visible underneath his black tunic. An emerald-studded belt, strange lines drawn under his eyes, and a flowing emerald mages'-robe completed his costume.  
to His Royal Majesty, King Trystam of House Nivue, complete and absolute ruler of Galla and it's holdings, finished the herald.  
The man between the lines of soldiers stopped ten meters away from the throne, and gave Trystam the correct bow a visiting monarch gave to another. In reply, Trystam ducked his head, all the while aware of the small group - probably the emperor's council - which had arranged itself behind the man.  
Trystam stood; his velvet darkblue cloak (you know, the things that the kings put around their shoulders and which trail them and which are trimmed in a spotted-white-tiger's' fur?) fell gracefully behind him.  
In the name of our people, he began, using the royal we', we welcome you to Galla. We hope that your stay, however long, will be uneventful and full of interesting experiences, and that you will achieve whatever goal you may have.  
The emperor ducked his head; the movement suddenly made lights flash. The man was bedecked in riches! Rings on every fingers, an opal pendant, silver beads in his braided hair...he was like an idol!  
I thank you for your hospitality, he replied in smooth, unaccented Common. As he wasn't in his empire, Ozorne didn't refer to himself with plural pronouns. I also wish it to be known that you and your kin are welcome in Carthak.  
Trystam nodded in appreciation, smiling. That is good to hear. He looked around. You must be hungry - let us dine! He stepped down from the throne and exited through the Eastern doors, Ozorne a step behind him, everyone else following the king.  
  
Daine was woken by a hollow _thud_, and a whispered curse. Quietly, heart fluttering against her chest, she pulled on her robe and slipped her feet into soft slippers, then changed her eyes into a cat's.  
_Useful, this magic_ she thought, making her way softly down the living quarters of the Silver Temple and into the kitchen.  
When she reached the kitchen door, she paused. There came another thud. Taking a deep breath, Daine barged in, expecting a thief, or a busy couple - instead, Juliana's emerald eyes met hers.  
gasped Daine. She shaped her eyes back to a human's. What...aren't you supposed to be in the palace?  
Juliana nodded, her mouth curved in a smile. But Trystam's having his one-hundreth dinner party with the emperor, and I'm _so_ fed up of dining with those stuffed-up, arrogant women who look down their perfect little noses at me because I am the king's favorite woman! She grinned, flashing white teeth. I came back for a decent meal with my dear friend!  
Daine yawned. What's the time?  
Two hours till the midnight call. You haven't entertained anyone today, have you?  
No. That's why I was sleeping. So, what do you want to eat?  
Meat, cakes, and some hot cocoa sounds good.  
Meat, cakes, and hot cocoa it is, replied Daine, smiling. She bustled around the kitchen, preparing the late-night meal, silently rejoicing that Juliana no longer was anorexic.  
Half an hour later, the two friends were on their third cups of cocoa. The candles were burning low, and their bellies were full.  
So, Juliana, what's it like, being the favorite woman of the king?  
Wonderful...and yet, sad.  
Daine wanted to know.  
Well, I know he loves me, and I know I love him - but I also know that that's how far we can go. Juliana looked at her hands, eyes over-bright. Daine, they call me..._things_ at the palace, she whispered, blinking rapidly. I know that many people don't respect what we do, but I have never met such...scornful people before! Two tears trailed down her face; impatiently, she brushed them away and tried to smile. I told Trystam that perhaps I should leave - he laughed it off and told me that they couldn't hurt me. But he isn't the one who dines and assembles with the ladies. He isn't the one who has to endure hours of mutterings, looks, and out-right disrespect and hate.  
Opening her mouth to reply, Daine realized that Juliana wasn't done.  
The emperor of Carthak came today, she was saying quietly. There was a huge banquet - I sat far away from Trystam, but he visited me. When he did...oh, gods, it was awful! The last was a cry of pain; Juliana began to sob. Hesitantly, Daine went over to her side of the table and hugged her, crooning softly.  
Daine...they thought...they thought I slept with _all_ the men at court...not just the king...I don't...because...because...  
prodded Daine gently, stroking her friends golden hair.  
Because I love him.  
  
  
**I like the way that ended. AWWWWW... ;o)   
I'm sorry...did you say something? No, I can't hear you; you'll have to write a REVIEW to communicate with me (or an email, whatever you want). No eggs or cabbages, please.**


	11. Part X - these chpts sound *so boring*

**Hey peeps! I'm feeling really low today. But here's a nice chapter, involving Ozorne (since Numair is *temporarily* out of the picture...*shiver* *shiver* *delicious shiver* *grin* sorry, I've been drinking to much Coke and watching to much MTV...).  
Ummm...oh yeah, just a few things to say:  
Pinkpanther: nope, Trystam has nothing to do with Tristan. I just like the name (so sue me, I was uninspired). However, Tristan (you know, the one that gets morphed into a tree by Numair) *might* make an appearance...hmmm...  
Okay, I've changed the rating t PG-13, cuz Ozorne has some fun' (don't worry, no graphics, I'm not too good at those...*grin* I'm JOKING!!!) with...er...some girls...yeah...  
Oh...this is just something about my *other* fic - _Never Yours_ (just incase you're wondering, it's an angst, SHORT fic with D/N [sorta]). **MSsUnDaZtOoD **suggested that I plagiarized the last few sentences (something about me copying from the Mask of Zorro...). Okay, I don't know if you guys know me *that* well, but I would never, ever do such a thing. I haven't watched that movie in about six months, and hey, it's not like I write down and remember every single line...those lines I wrote were my own, not the writer of the movie's (great minds think alike, eh? j/k). **MSsUnDaZtOoD **suggested that I write a disclaimer on that - okay, so I did, but in the reviews (I'll be damned if I have to re-upload a story that hardly anyone reads because of a disclaimer). The point I'm trying to get at is this: there is so much information in this world that we soak it all in...and when we least expect it, something already used comes out in our work (in this case, my fic). Now you know why Tamora Pierce doesn't read fanfic, right? (PS: a thousand thanx to **MSsUnDaZtOoD **for calling my attention to that!)  
Happy reading!  
_Giovanna xoxo_****  
RrÞ**

  
Part X  
  


Trystam joined the emperor at breakfast the next morning. They talked for a couple of hours, discussing innocent things' - such as a possible marriage alliance between Ozorne's nephew and a Gallan noblewoman.  
Towards the end of the meal, Ozorne said, Forgive me if I am being rude, but I have noticed that pretty young lady, the one with the green eyes and blonde hair. Is she a mage?  
Trystam laughed softly. No, no, not at all. Juliana is no more mage than I am a mule.  
_Right_ thought Ozorne dryly. Then my question is: who is she to you?  
Juliana Tomeksri is my lover, Trystam replied frankly. You could call her a concubine.  
Noble born?  
No. I met her in a brothel, Trystam corrected quietly. Then he changed the topic of conversation. What will you be doing today, my lord?  
I? I have nothing much in mind - my mages are the ones who insisted on coming so they could study the magical sickness. I was thinking that perhaps one of your people could take me on a tour of Cría?  
Trystam tapped his fingers together. Yes, I think we could arrange that. My uncle, Duke Christer, knows the city inside out. I think I could have an escort, which includes some of your men, of course -  
Of course.  
- ready to go in about thirty minutes. Is that all right with you, my lord?  
Yes, of course. My thanks, my lord.  
It is no trouble, insisted Trystam, getting up and moving towards the door. Until then.  
Ozorne sat alone in the room, thinking. Then he gestured; a thin man appeared from behind the curtains.  
asked Ozorne, looking at the man.  
Imperial Majesty, began the other, his pale blue eyes flicking to every corner of the room. I have found out that the man named Numair Salmalín was recently here, investigating the magical sickness.  
Ozorne hissed softly, slamming his fist into the table. Every time I do something, he just _has_ to come sniffing around. Marcus?  
Yes, Imperial Majesty?  
Did he find out?  
No. No one knows that it was us who created the disease.  
Good. Make sure it stays that way.  
Marcus hesitated before saying, There is one more thing, Majesty.  
And that is?  
My informants say that Alanna the Lioness, the King's Champion, was with him, and they -  
Ozorne interrupted Marcus' report with a flood of bad language. Marcus waited it out, then cleared his throat.  
It's quite possible that they will return.  
Ozorne snorted. Don't be ridiculous. Tortall is at war with their neighbors! He stood up and moved towards the door that led to his privy. Call my slaves; I need to get dressed.  
  
Twenty minutes later, Ozorne was mounted on his black gelding. He was dressed in warm clothes - the temperature was starting to drop. Five of his best guards were mounted and assembled behind him; they kept on glaring suspiciously at King Trystam's men, who were gathered behind him.  
Shall we go? Trystam began, stroking his mare's neck absently. Ozorne nodded.  
The next few hours, the two rulers and their men went around Cría. Trystam and his uncle, Duke Christer, explained the history of the place, and took the Carthaki emperor to the most notable of places. Ozorne, although rather bored, hardly noticed the time fly by, so when Duke Christer suggested that they return, he snapped out of his .  
Already, your grace? he asked.  
Duke Christer exchanged a look with Trystam. Yes, Imperial Majesty...unless...  
Where do your people go to have fun?  
During the night? asked Trystam; Ozorne nodded.  
After all, cousin, there is a place which has reached our ears in Carthak.  
The Silver Temple. Trystam looked up at the sky, a frown tugging his lips down. It would not be...ah..._subtle_ , if we went there with all these guards. People will recognize us...they would get ideas...  
Ozorne waved it away. I can watch out for myself. He turned towards his guardians. A few blocks away, you men split up and place yourselves in strategic positions.  
Trystam looked uncomfortable. Are you really sure you want to do this, cousin?  
  
  
It was one of those quiet evenings. There were no premiers, no shows, on nights like these. Daine enjoyed them. It meant not having to get stressed over costumes, make-up, words, dance movements. It also meant a more personal' and civilized' time for the customers; Damara would greet each one individually, then introduce them to the available girls.  
called Damara, fixing on an earbob, looking splendid as usual. Are you ready to mingle and such? It's almost eight.  
Valentina and Pichi, the only old-timers' from before Daine's arrival, nodded. They settled themselves down on a window seat and began talking softly. Mangar, looking magnificent in an orange gown which contrasted with her dark skin, was using a strange paste - she called it _henna_ - to draw elaborate designs on the palms of her hands.  
The twins, Kara and Hannah, had placed themselves near the fireplace. Kara was wearing a cream-colored gown; her neck sparkled with crystals. Hannah, the one with the small scar, was almost too painful to look at, as her dress was a silk whiter that snow. They both had small lap harps, and strummed them softly.  
Juliana was working on the food. As she was already the king's woman, she had not dressed elaborately - but anyone could tell she was a beauty. Daine just prayed that no one would ask for her.  
There were several other courtesans - Damara, after Kara, Hannah, Mangar, and Juliana were trained properly, had found more. At the moment, about twenty full-time women worked at the Silver Temple. Then there were the stable-hands, the part-time girls, and the trainees...  
Daine sighed when she heard the voices of strangers in the entrance. Damara bustled off - and returned instantly, her face white.  
she said in a harsh whisper. It's the king...and he's brought a friend.  
Juliana looked up, excited.  
Now, don't go all meek, Damara continued. You are professional, first-class courtesans - behave like them! She left the room again.   
Daine met Juliana's emerald eyes, and mouthed, Lucky you. Juliana grinned and returned to pouring herself a glass of wine.  
A few minutes later, the door swung open. Daine looked up and saw Damara lead two powerfully built men inside. Trystam she recognized immediately - the other, though, she did not.  
Is that a stud, or what? murmured Mangar; Daine jumped. She hadn't noticed the Zallaran woman come up behind her.  
she whispered, keeping her eyes on her book. The king? Or his buddy?  
His friend. But... Mangar paused, stiffened, and cursed softly. He's a Carthaki.  
Daine looked closely at the man; his attention was fixed on Damara, who was talking to Trystam. He had reddish-brown hair which was arranged into hundreds of thin braids, each one held by a tiny silver bead, so that when he moved his head, they clicked softly together. He had large, amber colored eyes - Daine saw that their weird shape came from the strange lines painted around them. His mouth was firm, and his skin had a slightly copper tone to it.  
_Not bad_ Daine thought.  
  
Trystam, your usual? Damara was saying; the king nodded. Smiling, Damara gestured at Juliana. The young woman came up to Trystam, grinning, and led him up a flight of stairs. Before disappearing, he turned and called,  
Be nice, Damara.The door slammed.  
She rolled her eyes, chuckling softly. So, my friend, may I know who _you_ are?  
Ozorne felt rather awed by this place, and its mistress. So he bowed slightly. Ozorne Muhassin Tasikhe, he introduced himself.  
Emperor of Carthak, eh? Damara drawled. At Ozorne's nod, she continued, It's not the first time Trystam has brought his monarch-buddies here. So, tell me what you look for in a girl, and I'll get her. Or you can just go around and choose. It's your choice.  
I think I'll go walk around.  
May I suggest something?  
  
Go for the ones you aren't likely to have in Carthak. It is a hot, humid country, filled with women with brown skin, black hair and eyes. Now, you are in the north. Take a northerner.  
I'll keep that in mind, replied Ozorne, moving away from Damara and starting towards the twins. Daine closed her book and approached her foster-mother.  
Who is he? she asked softly, pouring herself a glass of wine. Mangar said he's Carthaki.  
So he is. The emperor, actually.  
Daine nearly dropped her glass. He has _concubines_ at his palace! she exclaimed in a whisper. Why would he go to a brothel if he has concubines?  
Daine, what's the difference between a concubine and a courtesan?  
I don't know, Damara. You never taught us.  
Juliana will soon be a concubine, if she keeps this up, Damara muttered. Courtesans are simply prostitutes with class, whose customers are nobles. They are well-educated, polite, and are able to provide for themselves. A concubine is a man's mistress - she sleeps with no one else. Love is not a necessary factor, but it's nice to have some.  
So you're saying that, since Juliana can't marry her king, but because she loves him, and he loves her, she's his _concubine_?  
Exactly. Remember that concubines aren't paid. Well, not usually. When _I_ was Trystam's concubine...well, he provided for me.  
Daine grinned. That's right. I forgot about that small detail. Does Juliana know?  
No. Trystam will tell her, though.  
Do you still love him?  
I told you, one doesn't need to feel love to be someone's concubine.  
Do you? persisted Daine. She was swirling the wine inside her glass, eyes glued on the emperor. Damara sighed.  
I thought I did. Now, I feel like...a very _close_ friend.  
replied Daine absently. _Damn him, he's going for Kara...just as well. I'm not up to it tonight..._


	12. Part 11 - SSS and UPDATED

**Hi guys! Thanx for ALL of your suggestions - I've read and considered them ALL. I think ALL of you deserve a large round of applause. *clapclapclap* I now know what to do - but if the story starts to suck...tell me NICELY and I'll rewrite it. *grin* Aren't I nice? Yes, yes I am! ;o)  
Anyway, like I promised, the continuation of THIS chapter (it's *short*) and a NEW one. I AM writing IN caps ALOT today, RIGHT? I couldn't be bother italicizing and bolding my writing at the moment...  
Happy reading!  
_Giovanna xoxo_  
J>7^**

  
  
Part XI  
  


The young woman had introduced herself as Kara. In an ancient language, Kara' meant expensive'. Ozorne hoped that she was expensive because she was good.  
He was jolted from his thoughts by the sound of the door being locked. Puzzled, he turned and looked at Kara, who had taken the key and was now placing it carefully on the window-sill. She smiled at him.  
Do you wish for privacy or not? Kara asked him in her low voice.  
he replied, smiling slightly. Kara replied by widening her smile, revealing white teeth. She moved around the room, lighting several candles. Then she went to the over-large bed, sat on it, and tapped her fingers on her thighs.  
How do you want to do this? she asked. Quickly? Slowly? On the floor? On the bed? Standing, sitting, upside down - how?  
Unfastening his cloak and pulling off his boots, Ozorne replied, Whatever you're best at.  
At first, he thought he was being attacked. Then he realized that Kara was working in a fast mode. She pushed him onto the bed, straddled him, and had him totally undressed in less than two minutes. After that, Ozorne couldn't think.  
  
_He was standing with his back turned to her. It was hard to see him - it was completely dark - but a silverish light that covered him caught her eyes.  
You must be careful, Daine.  
She jumped, not expecting to hear him talk in a _dream_. I must be careful of what? she asked, wanting to see if she could talk.  
There are many in this world who would use your power for their own benefit. That is why you _must_ be careful. Tell no one you have just met about it. Tell no one you hate about it. Don't tell many of your friends - from experience, I can truthfully say that women say weird things when with a man.  
Suddenly, Daine realized that this was a memory. A memory of one of her first classes with Numair. _Then why can't I hear myself when I talked on that day?_ she asked herself. Nervous, she cleared her throat.  
Why are you telling me this again?  
The man didn't even turn around. _Did he hear me?_ she thought. _ _Can_ he hear me?_ Numair...Numair? I'm talking to you.  
Be especially careful around religious people. There are many fanatics out there that would gladly tear you limb from limb, just because they think that you are some demon. I would take it amiss and hurt such a person badly if that happened - but it's better to be safe than sorry.  
Numair, when are you coming back? I need help. I need you to teach me -  
You must be careful._  
  
At breakfast the next day, Daine found Valentina My Valentine perched on a stool, muttering soundlessly as Damara checked her temperature.  
she asked, grinning at Valentina as she made herself some tea.  
_I_ think it is - after all, it's spring. Spring means confused weather. Confused weather means sniffles. But Damara doesn't seem convinced.  
Frowning, Damara plucked her hand off Valentina's forehead. I'm not sure, she said, but you may be running a fever.  
I've had fevers before, Valentina snapped, then sneezed. I'm telling you, it's just a spring flu!  
was all that came out of Damara.  
Damara, you're a healer -  
All I can do is mend cuts, soothe headaches, and fade bruises out. I can't use my Gift to tell if you are sick-sick or not. Damara pursed her lips. Tell you what. If you don't get better in two days, I'll give you leave and send you to a skilled healer. In the meantime, you dress warmly, drink lots of tea, and try not to work a lot.  
Valentina rolled her eyes and left the room.  
  
I'm worried about her, Pichi the Kisser whispered, turning a page of her book.  
Who? Valentina?  
Pichi nodded, her lips tight. It's been a week - she's had five days off, and she's looking worse.  
Daine put her embroidery away. She'd never had much patience for it, and today her fingers itched more than usual. You're right. Valentina is convinced that all she has is a flu - but I've never seen a flu turn a person into a living ghost.  
Just then, Damara entered the room, followed by some men. Daine stifled a sigh, but composed herself - after all, it was working hours! _I miss Juliana_ she thought. Juliana had moved out of the Silver Temple and into the palace a few days before. Daine's day-life was less colorful without her best friend.  
Oh look! whispered Pichi, sending the men sidelong glances over the rim of her book. That emperor-chap is here again.  
_Great. He's gone through every single girl in the Temple...I wonder..._ With a sigh, Daine picked up her embroidery and put it neatly away, all the while aware of the eyes of hungry men. _They can't pay, they can't play. At least, not with me._ Damara had made _that_ point very clear when Daine told her that, once, a man had paid only 50% and ran off.  
She was busy reading the labels of wine when the smooth, clear voice cut through her concentration.  
You like wine?  
Daine turned and met the amber eyes of Ozorne.¤


	13. Part Twelve

**Part XII**  
  


Excuse me? Daine asked.  
Do you like wine? Ozorne repeated patiently, hoping that the girl who came so highly recommended wasn't deaf and stupid. His doubts disappeared when she smiled. That smile lit up her entire face, making her gray-blue eyes shine with humor and intelligence.  
she replied. But only if it's red and good.  
Ozorne poured himself a glass and tasted it delicately. I agree. White wine is too...light...for me. He regarded her carefully. You're Daine.  
Veralidaine Sarrasri, she corrected, ducking her head. And you are Ozorne Muhassin Tasikhe, emperor of Carthak and her holdings.  
How is it that everyone knows who I am before _I_ know them? the emperor demanded, his voice slightly irritated. Then he smiled. Ah well. I do have a reputation.  
A big one, replied Daine with a small laugh. A _very_ big one. No one's ever gone through all the ladies here as fast as you.  
Let's just say...I'm open to new experiences,agreed Ozorne. Where I come from, the women are _nothing_ like you. I get bored easily.  
Ah. That _is_ a problem, Daine drawled. She knew how to play _this_ game very well. Slowly, deliberately, she put her glass down on the table. I'll wager that I can keep you with me for _much_ longer than any other girl has before, she murmured, putting the correct emphasis on certain words. Then she drew up to the emperor, so that they were chest to chest, placed her mouth close to his ear, and whispered, After all, I _am_ one of the best courtesans in Cría. I can make you feel things you haven't even considered imagining!  
Ozorne shivered pleasantly, and Daine knew she had him. Grinning wickedly, she stepped back, cocked her head, and asked, How about it?  
  
How long have they been in there? demanded Valentina between sneezes. It's almost midday!  
Damara, who had just returned from upstairs, smiled dimly and shrugged. Daine's a talent, she reminded Valentina. This isn't the first time they repeat rounds in the morning.  
Valentina opened her mouth to retort rebelliously, but didn't get a chance to say anything, as she started to cough violently. Damara looked at her in concern, then shook her head and prepared some tea.  
I think I'm going to send you to a healer, Damara said after a moment of silence.  
What? I'm fine!  
Sure you are. That's why you have an uncurable fever, dry skin, and a nasty cough, retorted Damara dryly. No, don't argue. My friend, her name's Gemma Thomasri, will be stopping by here at midday.  
Valentina only snorted and accepted the tea.  
  
A bird singing outside of the window was the thing that cut through Daine's sleep. Slowly, she opened her eyes, wincing slightly at the bright light that shone through the drawn curtains. But other than that, she felt completely at peace.  
Then she remembered the night before. _Was it a dream?_ she asked herself, sighing at how wonderful it had been. Too wonderful - so wonderful that it only could have been a dream. She rolled herself onto her back, looked to her left, and grinned when she saw the sleeping man beside her.  
_Nope, it _wasn't_ a dream!_ she thought gleefully. As if he sensed her happiness at that revelation, Ozorne's eyes flickered open and met hers.  
Good morning, Daine greeted in a half-whisper, leaning down so she could kiss him lightly. He responded immediately, then pulled away, tugging her down with him, so that her head lay in the crook of his arm.  
It certainly is, he informed.  
Was it good for you?  
His arm tightened on her. He paused, then looked into her eyes. Are you a goddess?  
Daine laughed. No. Only a mortal gifted with - _Don't tell him!_ screamed the part of her that agreed with Numair. _He is just a customer - you don't know him, you don't trust him, you don't _love_ him!_ She rapidly came up with a new answer. Only a mortal taught by the best.  
Ozorne snorted, showing his disbelief. You didn't _seem_ like a mere mortal last night, he informed her haughtily.  
Believe me, Daine replied. I am. Red blood runs through my veins, just like yours.  
In reply to that, Ozorne flicked his fingers. A small dagger appeared in his hands; he pressed it to Daine's wrist. I'll believe it when I see it, he whispered harshly. Then, so quickly that Daine didn't have time to react, he slashed sharply at her wrist. Red blood welled from the shallow - yet long - cut; Daine cried out.  
Ozorne didn't pay any attention to her. As if he was in a trance, he pressed his fingers to the cut, collected some blood, then brought them to his lips. he muttered; Daine only stared at him, her heart thundering against her chest. None of the girls mentioned _this_ behavior when they gushed about the man! Then, maybe because he heard that thought on some level, Ozorne's eyes cleared. He shook his head and gasped, seeing what he had done.  
Mithros, Mynoss, and Shakith! he cried, ripping a sheet and binding Daine's wound. She blinked, recognizing the familiar curse from _somewhere_...and snapped back into focus when she felt Ozorne's lips against hers. I'm so sorry, sorry, please forgive me... he was whispering.  
Summoning her courage, Daine sat up. It's alright, she told him, examining her bandaged wrist. Some men are...dizzy...in the morning. That'll cost you extra, though, she finished, waggling a teasing finger under Ozorne's nose. He laughed, sprang out of bed so he could get dressed, and handed her a heavy purse which jingled with coins.  
Full price, plus the extra, he reported, pulling on his boots. It's midday - I have to get going. See you tonight, yes?  
Daine nodded. Tonight. Bye. Tying the cord to her robe, she pocketed the purse and left the room, her mind filled with disturbing thoughts.  
  
The healer, the stocky blonde known as Gemma Thomasri, arrived on time. It was quite obvious that she and Damara were friends - they talked and laughed while Valentina arranged herself in a chair.  
So let's see what's wrong with you, lass, Gemma crooned, sitting across from the sick courtesan. Don't fight me, she warned sternly as she placed her left hand on Valentina's forehead. Almost immediately, she drew back, a frown replacing her kindly smile.  
That's one nasty fever you're running, she scolded Valentina. What have you been doing, romping in the snow? That's not advisable - the body heat created between you and the man isn't quite enough to protect you.  
It's just a spring flu! Valentina snapped. Anyone'll tell you - Daine, inform the healer that all I have is a flu!  
Daine, who had just entered the kitchen, hoping for some breakfast, frowned. Maybe you should let her look at you, she advised softly. Muttering under her breath, Valentina nodded to Gemma, who put her hand back on the courtesan's forehead.  
she mumbled. And your skin is dry - do you use cream?  
I put some on every night, growled Valentina. I pride myself on having smooth, healthy skin -  
Not anymore, it seems, Gemma interrupted. The skin I can heal. I can also reduce the fever. Just relax and let me work.  
Valentina sighed, made a face to Daine, who grinned, then nodded. Do your stuff.  
A light blue glow appeared around Gemma, though it was focused mainly around her hands. She pressed them to Valentina's cheeks and kept them there for a few minutes - and broke away with a cry.  
What's wrong? Damara demanded, coming up to Gemma; Daine went to Valentina's side and squeezed her hand, because the courtesan was starting to look nervous.  
The fever...it's...  
suggested Daine, ignoring Valentina's gasp.  
No, no...it's natural, Gemma stammered. But...every time I try to get your body's cells to destroy it...I can't! The cells...they're not there!  
shrieked Valentina. Daine tried to calm her friend, but Valentina was ignoring her. What does that mean?  
Your body can't fight that fever, Gemma rasped. There's a..a disease - one I've never encountered - that's killed off all of your natural defenses and is now inhabiting your body.  
There was a heavy silence.  
Can you cure her? whispered Daine, breaking the quiet.  
I don't know, the healer admitted. I can try...let me just check something. Valentina, what did you do for Midwinter?  
echoed Valentina; Gemma nodded. Valentina frowned in thought. There was a party...I think, because Damara throws a party every year...many people came...and I...I..._I can't remember_!  
Calm down! Gemma ordered. Her voice was firm and commanding. I can_not_ work with hysterics.  
Valentina took a deep breath.  
Good. Now control yourself. Gemma shook her head. That disease is impairing your memory as well. And -  
Gemma, I asked you before - can you cure her? That was Daine, starting to lose her patience. The healer stared at her hands, losing herself in thought.  
I'll try, she said at last.   
  
Prepare a room. Make sure it has a fireplace. We're going to sweat the fever out and use herbs alongside my magic. You have to help too, as you have a small healing Gift. Daine, I want you to get firewood, the basic healing herbs, several blankets, a clean shift for Valentina. There's some alcohol in my bag - grab it and clean that cut of yours.  
How did you know? gasped Daine, grabbing her bandaged wrist.  
I'm a healer, was the lofty response. Now, go do what I said.  
Nervous, worried for her friend, Daine hurried to obey.  
  
  
  
  
  
**Sorry for keeping you guys waiting so long - I've had a terrible head cold...still do, actually. Ah well, that's what you get when you jump into a near-freezing pool on a sunny March day, just as you're recovering from bronchitis...anyway, sorry if this was too short, I have to go and research some diseases...  
Like? No like? How about Ozorne? Weird behavior, no? I think I'll give him a *cough* _slightly_ *cough* weird obsession with...blood. Oh God, I just thought of some absolutely horrible things he could do to Daine!!! Mua-hahaha! Yes, I am the essence of pure evil! *bows* However...*frown* then I might have to change the rating...aw, what the heck!  
On a more serious note, my friend's parents are getting divorced, so while I'm comforting and giving her an e-shoulder to cry on, I might not write loads. _And_ school starts on Tuesday and I haven't done my h/w...damn it all...  
Review, guys! I was so happy when I saw I had 100 - I've NEVER had so many reviews in my life. *grabs a champaign bottle, opens it, rememebers she hates champaign, and uploads it to ff.net for the people who'd like to celebrate*.**


	14. Part THIRTEEN

**Oh God, how long has it been? *blush* A lo-o-ong time. I'm so sorry - but since I didn't get many reviews that were simply _begging_ me to continue, I assumed you were all bored with this amazing tale concocted by yours truly. *grinz*  
A few things first, ok?  
Firstly, I dunno if you know, but I've closed down my 2nd Tortall-themed website - the Horse Lords' Realm. It's main page (www.expage.com/horselords) has been cleaned out and gives directions to a new site (I'll talk about that later) but if you know the addies for the other pages in the site, use them. Those pages (including my extensive library of Things TP's Characters Would *Never* Say') are still there!  
Now, about that *other* site. It's Tortall-themed, yes, but it's not your average TP-fansite. It's dedicated (and I mean DEDICATED) to TP-fanfiction. You know the Fantasy Fights? Well, this is the TP-fanfic Fights (lol). At the moment, I have 2 fanfics running in the competition - but I need more votes! Please, go explore my site, and contribute (there's a pretty nifty award-banner to win, if I do say so myself - uh, yeah, I do...). The addy is: **http://dedicated.to/TPfanfic** or, if that doesn't work - **http://www.angelfire.com/darkside/colangel/tortall/index.html**  
Ummm...I just realized that this is gonna be a very chaptered' fanfic. And (someone mentioned this, I think, but I don't remember if I commented on it) Valentina does have HIV. But it's not super-speed. It's...er...remember how Valentina was working in the Silver Temple *way* before Daine came? Well, she could have gotten the disease back then.  
I've tried to make the paragraphs a bit clearer - see what you think of them, and if they work out, I'll use them, K?  
Another random thought of mine: do you think this could become the Daine Mini-series'? I've read the Alanna one - it's very good. *sigh* I wish I could write half as well...ok, ok, I'm probably fishing for compliments now, so I'll shut up.   
Happy reading!  
_Giovanna xoxo  
  
_  
ÒBTÞ**

Part XIII  
  
  


Daine grabbed the first chance she had to be alone with Valentina.  
  
Valentina My Valentine had been a friend ever since Damara had picked Daine up from the streets. Although she was normally aloof and collected and..._mature_, Daine had always found a warm and caring soul in her. Besides, Daine hadn't made outside' friends easily - in general, people tended to stay away from courtesans. And now, seeing Valentina so pale and shaken in her bed...Daine felt as if something inside of her was dying.  
  
Must you build such a fire? Valentina complained, twisting in the bed so she could arrange her pillows. These blankets are already thick enough.  
  
Gemma says we're going to use the old-fashioned way - sweating the fever out, replied Daine, getting off her knees and going to the bed, so she could sit down. And you've got to sweat if you want to sweat it out, you know.  
  
Valentina didn't meet Daine's gaze. She looked at the fire, hands twisting the blankets. she then said softly. Am I going to die?  
  
Daine felt tears well up in her eyes. Her voice as soft as Valentina's, she answered, I don't know.  
  
Still studying the fire and its bright and merry flames, Valentina smiled darkly. It's not fair.  
  
What's not fair?  
  
That less cared-for and more worked courtesans live long and healthily. And I? I am a first-class entertainer. I take care of myself - of my body and mind - very well. I please many, and get pleasured in return. And what do I get?  
  
Daine was spared having to answer, as at that moment, Damara and Gemma bustled in. Both women had their hair tied back and both wore simple - but hardy - garments.  
  
began Damara, you should leave.  
  
demanded Daine, grabbing Valentina's hand and grasping it tightly. She felt her friend cling to her. I can't leave - she's my friend and -  
  
Friendship isn't going to save her, interrupted Gemma in a harsh voice. Then, seeing how she wounded Daine, she smiled gently. The healing magic we'll use is powerful, and the patient usually...take my advice, Daine, and go.  
  
The young woman was still determined to stay. Then she felt Valentina tap her.   
  
Daine, go, the icy-blonde whispered. You don't want to stay here.  
  
But...I'm your friend...I can't leave you here without support!  
  
I have your support, Valentina murmured, grinning slightly. Give me a kiss and go. Don't bother praying to the gods - they're much to busy to care about a courtesan. But send me your luck.  
  
But -  
  
Valentina's eyes hardened.   
  
Daine swallowed and nodded. She kissed her friend softly on the cheek, whispered Goddess bless' and strode out, heart beating furiously. Then she closed the door and ran to her room, where she collapsed on her bed.  
  
  
  
  
  
She didn't know how long she had stayed there, eyes closed in a type of stupor. But when she woke up, she knew something was terribly wrong.  
  
With a gasp, Daine sat up, breathing hard. Then she stopped, wanting to hear something.  
  
she muttered, when only muffled yells met her not-so-acute human ears. Daine knew what she had to do. She had done it to her eyes before, so changing her ears shouldn't be so difficult.  
  
_That was an _accident_,_ a voice in her head informed her. Angrily, she shook it away.   
  
_It wasn't,_ she thought back. _I did it before - and I'll do it again_.  
But before she could start, she had to calm down. Attempting a partial-shapeshift took concentration, something she did _not_ have at the moment.  
  
_That's fine. I'll just have to meditate in a flash._ Daine sat on the floor, crossed her legs and let her hands rest loosely on her thighs, then began to breathe in and out in a regular pattern.  
  
_In, out. In, out. Breathe in...breathe out...breathe in...breathe...breathe...bre..._ The rhythm lost itself in her calmness.  
  
_Now...I have...to find...a...cat..._ came the sigh in her mind. She didn't have to look far - Annicka, her kitten, was sunning herself in the Temple's courtyard.  
  
_Annicka_ she called softly. Instantly, the cat was alert.  
  
_- Daine? Is anything wrong? -  
_  
_ Let me into your mind. I need your ears, please.   
  
- Why? -  
  
Valentina is sick, and they're trying to heal her. I want to hear what's going on. Please, Annicka, help me!  
  
All right, _ the kitten said; Daine felt the kitten's willingness to help her mingle with her magic. Carefully - as she was still a novice at this - she merged her mind into Annicka's. It happened so slowly that she didn't notice the change at first - but then chants and incantations rang in her _very_ sensitive ears. Daine flattened them.  
  
_Am I in?  
  
-Yes. You're getting better at this. Now shape your ears and go eavesdropping. The clouds are coming and I want to get some sun. -  
_  
Holding back a laugh, Daine focused on her magic and Annicka's ears. Then, instinctively knowing she had succeeded, she opened her eyes and reached to feel her ears. They were now pointed, fuzzy, and black. The noises were sharper, too.  
  
Fighting down a mixture of pride and worry, Daine crept down the stairs and tiptoed to the door of the room in which Valentina was in. Silently, praying to any gods that were listening, she pressed one of her new ears to the door - a very _thick_ door - and listened.  
  
...they shall cast out demons, and they shall speak in new tongues... That was Gemma, chanting a healing spell. Daine noticed how her voice was cracking. ...lay hands upon the sick, and they shall recover. In the name of the Mother, so mote it be!  
  
There was a short silence. Daine waited with bated breath - then squeezed her eyes shut to prevent tears when she heard Damara's muffled curse.  
  
Great Mother, I implore you, heal this woman of her illness! cried Gemma. Rid her body of the deadly disease that is killing her - purify your child, give her strength -  
  
Don't do it! Gemma! You have not the power! That was Damara, her yell full of fear. It is not your Gift to do that!  
  
There is no other - hold her _down_!  
  
Some sounds of struggling, yells, curses, and cries then issued from the room. Another brief silence followed, in which Daine lost her endurance to simply _listen_, and ran in.  
  
Damara's startled eyes met hers, then moved away. Gemma, shaking slightly, had placed her hands on Valentina's head and was now attempting to get the woman to snap out of a faint. Valentina herself lay limp and white, her eyes open, wide and blank, in the bed, covered with a fine sheen of sweat.  
  
Daine stumbled to the bed, hoping it wasn't true. She looked at Gemma, hoping it wasn't true - that hope died when Gemma moved gentle hands down and closed Valentina's eyes.  
Sleep well, Valentina.  
  
  
  
  
  
The rest of the day seemed to drag on. As long as it may have been, Daine didn't really remember it clearly. All she remembered was that she had collapsed on the floor, tears rolling down her cheeks - then she had nearly fainted; coping with the loss of a friend while trying to regain true human form wasn't a good mixture.  
  
A weeping Damara had helped her to the kitchen, where she made her adopted daughter a calming drink, as Daine was crossing the border and entering the land of hysteria. Then they had sat there for an hour, staring at nothing, before Gemma came to them and informed them that Valentina had been taken away.  
  
_To be burned_? Daine then screamed, jumping up from her chair so violently that it tipped back. They're going to _burn_ her?  
  
Gemma reached for a cup of the calming tea and swallowed it all down. she replied quietly, wiping her mouth. I don't want to take the risk of her disease being spread.  
  
That's right, muttered Daine, glaring at the healer. You couldn't heal her disease! Why? Why - oh gods, _why!_ She started crying again. You're a _healer_ - you were supposed to make her better! And _you!_ she snarled, turning to a stunned Damara. _You _ are no better than this so-called healer!  
  
Daine! I -  
  
_I heard what you said!_ Daine yelled, interrupting her foster mother. You stopped Gemma in the middle of an incantation - a spell that could have spared Valentina's life! But you _stopped _her! You let Valentina die!  
  
The next thing she knew was that she was being pushed into a chair. A stronger dose of that calming drink was made and promptly force-fed to her; Daine shook her head, eyes alight with fury and grief, and tried to refuse the mixture - but Gemma was relentless. Daine was soon under control again.  
  
Daine, as to why Damara stopped me - I was invoking the Mother Herself, whispered Gemma, squatting in front of the courtesan. I don't have that talent - and mages who attempt things they don't have talent for often end up in nasty situations. Damara knew that - so do I, but I forgot. Daine, please understand; we combined our magic, but Valentina was beyond help. That disease... She shook her head, lips in a thin line. Then she continued in a soft voice, That sickness takes away your natural immunity - and trying to get rid of it just makes it stronger. Perhaps with a stronger healer, or one gifted with invoking the Mother, Valentina would have made it. But I am just a city hedge-witch, just like Damara.  
  
Daine was instantly filled with guilt. Blushing, she looked at the floor. I'm sorry, she whispered. I just got carried away. I - I know it's not your fault.  
  
Gemma patted her shoulder and stood. Perhaps you should go to sleep. It's almost evening.  
  
Startled, Daine looked at Damara, who gazed back with sad eyes.  
  
Gods bless it! she muttered, rubbing her eyes. I'm working tonight and -  
  
Perhaps you should take the night off.  
  
Daine fought down tears. I - I can't. Taking time off will give me thinking time - time which I don't want right now. I need to...work. I have to keep busy, otherwise... she trailed off, shaking her head. Then she shook Gemma's hand. Thank you, Gemma, for trying. Gods all bless. With that, she went to her room slowly, mind unwillingly set to tonight's wardrobe.¤


	15. Part 14

**Okay, due to many people begging me for more, here it is. It is NOT finished - heck, I don't even LIKE this chapter. No, I don't. I personally think it's too rushed...  
Anyway, I realized that this story is 44 pages long! And it's in Palatino font, size 12, not double space. Kewl, huh?  
As an answer to a review I got in Death Mark'd love: **devilkitti8, **I won't really be continuing it, coz, frankly, with this fic and the 101 things I have to do...*sigh* It's just gonna have to wait. Sorry. But, hey, read this fic instead!  
**stargirl_rebels, **I decided to write an A/N for you, coz I can't be bothered logging onto my hotmail account - I'm laaazy! How do I get so many readers? Umm...how shall I put this without sounding conceited...aw, what the heck, I'll give you my opinion:  
1. I get people to know me. I wrote TP fanfics for about 2 years before signing up with ff.net. Before that, I sent numerous fics to very large TP sites (like Tara's and Cathy's) and sent others to other smaller, but just as wonderful, TP sites. My biggest success, off ff.net, was Jen, Neal, Kel, and Joren - and it was a rough draft, AND and K/J fanfic!!!  
2. I come up with a different/original story line. Or, I take an old story line and give it a twist (like Death Mark'd Love).  
3. It's all in the advertising. You have to give it a good title and a good summary - one of my favorite stories, And I Hand My Throne To, got TWO reviews. It's my work of art (unfinished) but because it has such a blah' title and summary...well, you get the idea.  
4. Grammar, spelling, vocabulary. Yeah, I know it's boring and terrible and gives people the shudders - but it makes a BIG difference. Also, tenses. I get so irritated and confused when the tense switches from 3rd person past (eg: she sat down and began to eat) to 3rd person present (eg: she sits down and begins to eat).  
5. Ummm...er...listen, why don't you send your story to me? I want to read it, K? My email's bigego_13@hotmail.com  
  
Phew. That's the longest A/N to someone I've ever written! I didn't mean to offend anybody, it's just that there are a few tricks to getting your story read...  
Like I said before - I HATE this chapter. I just posted it coz you remind me like hungry puppies... =)  
Happy reading,  
Giovanna xoxo  
  
  
Í^**

Part 14  
  


You're very quiet tonight, Ozorne informed her, fiddling with her curls. Not like last time.  
Daine looked up at the ceiling. One of my friends died today, she said softly. Some sort of disease.  
Oh? I'm sorry to hear that. Who was she?  
Someone who worked here. Valentina My Valentine. Daine paused, willing her tears away. They couldn't heal her, and she - She choked on her misery. Ozorne, noticing this, slid an arm around her waist and hugged her tightly.  
Death is natural, he whispered. It'll happen to all of us one day.  
Daine closed her eyes and shook her head. It _wasn't_ natural, she muttered. Her death was anything _but_ natural. It was like that magical-sickness and - what's wrong?  
Ozorne had stiffened. he replied, shaking his head. Magical sickness? What's that?  
Daine turned her head so she could give him a suspicious look. You haven't heard of it?  
lied Ozorne. Do tell me.  
Last year - take or give a few months - non-Gifted people started to show signs of strange Gifts. Except...except they _weren't_ Gifts - someone once told me that the Gift is purely academic, _not_ supernatural. And _those_ new powers were supernatural. Daine grinned wryly, remembering Numair's hour-long explaination. Mages from around the Eastern Lands came to visit King Trystam, but I don't think they figured out what the problem was _exactly_. Luckily, the sickness has disappeared.  
mused Ozorne, running his finger up and down Daine's arm, making her shiver slightly. How do you know all of this?  
Daine hesitated. Well -  
Judging from the extensive amount of information you just gave me, it sounds as if one of those mages told you directly. A customer, perhaps?  
She blushed. No, I never actually slept with him. I was just his - she paused, looking for a word other than _student_,   
And does this _friend_ have a name?  
Curious about his curiousity, Daine rolled over in bed and caught his eye. Why do you want to know?  
I like to be informed about the friends of my whore, replied Ozorne. Now, tell me his name.  
It's none of your buisness, Daine told him quietly. And - she was cut off by a stinging blow to her cheek.   
Ozorne had hit her.  
Pale, controlled, he grabbed her by the hair and yanked her face near his. Now Daine, he began in a soft voice. I was hoping it wouldn't come to this. However, I don't like it when a common prostitute - no matter how skilled and dignified - talks back to me. I will ask you again - who is this friend of yours?  
Trembling with anger and fear combined, Daine shook her head. It's my life, not yours, she muttered. Then she gasped when he hit her again.  
Daine, tell me. I don't want to hurt you.  
_You have already_, she thought furiously, trying to struggle out of his grip. _I won't tell you!_ She didn't know why she wouldn't - but then Numair's words came back to her: _There are many in this world who would use your power for their own benefit. That is why you _must_ be careful. Tell no one you have just met about it. Tell no one you hate about it._ _If I tell him the name of one of the most powerful mages in the Eastern Lands, he'll ask me _why_ we actually met. And since Numair _wasn't_ a customer, than I have no good reason as to why a blackrobed mage would even _talk_ to a courtesan. The only good reason for a mage like him to care about someone like me is if I have magic - and Ozorne will surely realize this._  
The bitter taste of blood in her mouth, Daine declared, I won't tell you! Hit me as much as you want - you'll get no answer from me!  
If that's the way you want it...  
So he hit her.  
Again and again.¤


	16. FIFTEEN

**Hey peeps!  
Sorry I've spent such a long time with this chapter - I turned 14 on Thursday 18, and I've been busy with an RPG, and I had to write a stupid 3-page long thesis on Did Africa Benefit from Livingstone's Explorations?' *smiles innocently* I, of course, wrote alot of BS, but oh well...  
I can't believe I'm FOURTEEN!   
I still feel 13, though.  
I was really surprised by your reactions to the last chapter, so I decided to leave it like that. I love Ozorne. Don't you? *smiles all around* I love Linkin Park. Don't you? I love dirty socks - ooops, scratch that. *whistles*  
Oh, one last thing: go to my gods-cursed site and VOTE!!! I have a new fic up there! VOTE!!! VOOOOOOOOOOOOOTE!!!!! http://devoted.to/TPfanfic VOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTE!!! Otherwise, no more chapters for THIS story.  
Yeah, you heard me. No vote, no story.  
Ah, blackmail is such a beautiful thing.  
  
Happy reading!  
Giovanna xoxo  
.ÞC•ú.ÞC•ú**

  
Part 15  
  


_He was still as large and powerfully built as the last time she had seen him. Thick fur and a musty stench confirmed who this was.  
she cried, running up to him - or, at least, trying to. Sore muscles brought her to a rapid stop. she called. It is really you?  
The Badger waddled up to her, his fur upright with rage. Stupid kit! he snarled, glaring at her with intelligent eyes. I warned you to watch your tongue!  
But I - Daine wasn't able to finish her protest, as the Badger swiped her down with one gesture.   
Don't talk back! he snapped, digging claws into her shoulders. I warned you to be careful! I _warned_ you! Moreover, that teacher of yours warned you! Daine, I'm surprised - I had thought you were more intelligent than this!  
Daine broke down, sobbing. I don't know why he hit me! I don't! That man wants to know everything about me - and I know my rights!  
He's an emperor. You're a prostitute.  
That hurt. Daine glared at her benefactor. Don't lecture me, she snapped, not caring if she was going to be hit again. It's not like _you_ visited me in the past few years! Oh, no. You leave me to stumble along in my magic - magic that I never asked for! I don't want it, Badger! I don't!  
To her surprise, the Badger didn't hurt her. Instead, he sighed and helped Daine to a sitting position, then stuck his wet nose in the base of her neck. I'm sorry, kit, he mumbled, sounding abashed. It's just that I'm worried about you - that's twice that man has hurt you.  
Daine buried her face in the god's thick fur. I know, she whispered. It doesn't seem as if he wants to hurt me...but... She sighed, shaking her head. I'm so confused. I don't know how to handle all of this.  
All of what?  
Valentina's death, Ozorne's jealousy. My magic. The fact that the only man who really knows what it's about is on the other side of the continent, fighting a stupid war against some stupid enemy and - Daine cut herself off, aghast. When had she become so bitter? she asked.  
  
Why haven't you visited me all these years?  
Because -  
  
_  
  
The next thing that registered to Daine was something shaking her. Hard. Instead of responding, she moaned and rolled to her side, ignoring the painful protests her muscles fed her.  
...cold meat...  
...some clothes...clean...blood...  
cried Damara, very close to her ear. Daine, child, wake up!  
Daine tried to open her eyes. Slowly - _very_ slowly - they obeyed. Then she tried to make her body move into a seating position. What's wrong? she rasped, meeting the shocked looks of Pichi the Kisser and Damara.  
whispered Pichi, looking as if she was about to be sick.  
Daine snapped, getting irritated.  
Daine...what happened? Damara demanded, pulling her out of the bed and leading her to the mirror, where Daine saw a bruised and bloody face staring back at her.  
Oh goddess! she cried.   
Daine, what happened?  
stammered Daine, too obsorbed in staring at her wounded face. He hit me! She whirled and buried her face into Damara's neck, beginning to cry with the delayed shock. Ozorne - he hit me!  
Damara hugged her, carefully as Daine whimpered from the pain. Let's get you cleaned up, she said softly, leading her foster daughter out of the room.  
  
  
  
Imperial Majesty?  
Ozorne, sitting hunched over, head in hands, muttered, What is it, Marcus?  
The thin man looked around nervously. Imperial Majesty, is anything wrong?  
_Yes_ Ozorne thought angrily. _I'm bored. I attacked a woman...and I want to go home._ Instead of voicing his thoughts to the spy, he turned and regarded Marcus carefully. When is the soonest we can return to Carthak?  
Marcus looked taken aback. Our work here is finished?  
Yes. Remember, we only came to make sure that nobody found out that _we_ created the magical disease. Ozorne turned to the window and observed the activity outside. Tell Chioké to contact our ship at the harbor in Scanra. Find the King, or his duke, and inform either one that we are leaving at the soonest date possible.  
Bowing, Marcus went to the door and opened it. Imperial Majesty.  
  
  
  
Daine looked at the letter in her hands. It was still unopened - the seal, intact, was a grand one, portraying a crossed wand and sword, wrapped in a jagged circle. She frowned, feeling that she had seen that mark _somewhere_.  
Who's it from? Damara asked, concentrating on placing her fingers on the most tender places on Daine's face, her Gift sparkling on her fingers as she worked at fading the bruises out.  
I don't know, replied Daine, fingering the embossed wax. She was trying to remember where she had seen the seal before...  
Why don't you open it? Damara suggested dryly. That's the best way of finding out.  
Daine stuck her tongue out at her foster mother before breaking the seal and unfolding the letter. It read:  
  
_Veralidaine Sarrasri,_  
_You are to present yourself before His Imperial Majesty, Ozorne Muhassin Tasikhe, at one hour past the midday bell, at the palace. Dress appropriately.  
Marcus Sarumgatty  
Imperial Ward_  
  
_Now_ she remembered where she had seen the seal. Ozorne had a golden ring with it's likeness on his fourth finger. Daine felt ill.  
  
asked Daine, startled.  
What does it say.  
Frightened, Daine pushed Damara's gentle fingers away and got up. I'm to go to the palace at one after the midday bell. She glanced at the letter, frowning. It's a fair rude letter. I am to present myself' - hasn't - she paused so she could find the name of the writer, - Marus Sarumgatty learned of the word please'? It's like I'm a -  
Damara shook her head, smiling sadly. What're you going to do?  
What can I do? Ozorne's an _emperor_! They'll probably kill me if I don't obey, snapped Daine.  
So you're going?  
Daine nodded, then squeaked with surprise when Damara swept her into a tight hug. Be careful, Damara whispered. Be very careful!  
I will.  
  
  
  
Sargeant Danielson leaned against the gate, chewing idly on his lower lip. He was partly listening to the talk of two of his fellow soldiers, partly spacing out. But he snapped out of his daydreaming when Osmond demanded in a joking voice,  
What have we here?  
Eh? What? Danielson straightened and looked to where Osmond was pointing at. It was a young woman, slender, of medium height, with lazy brown curls which tumbled down her back and blue-gray eyes. Her face, although determined, was mottled with bruises.  
Good afternoon, she said when she was close enough to be heard. I'm here to see the Emperor of Carthak.  
Danielson, Osmond, and Richardson, the third gatekeeper, burst out laughing.  
I don't see anything funny about it, the girl said dryly. Look, I even have an official summons. She pulled out a letter from her pocket and handed it to Richardson, who promptly read it and examined the seal.  
It's genuine alright, he concluded, handing it to Danielson. What does His Imperial Majesty want to do with a lass like you?  
The girl raised an eyebrow. That is between Ozorne and me.  
Osmond sniggered. I know your face - aren't you that wench from the Silver Temple? Daine?  
The girl rolled her eyes. My reputation proceeds me, I guess.  
So you are?  
Daine shot him a scathing look. Yes, I am. Happy?  
Osmond and Richardson exchanged glances. Why would the emperor want to see you? Are you here to -  
I have absolutely no idea what he wants of me, Daine interrupted, feeling the heat rise in her face. But I will be sure to tell him that three lowly _gatekeepers_ harassed a woman who makes more money then them in a year _and_ made snide remarks against his imperialness. But then again, you could always let me in.  
Seeing that his two friends were going to get violent, Danielson stepped between them. I'm terribly sorry, lass. I don't know what's gotten into my friends. Here, come in. Smiling apologetically, he drew the bolt and heaved the gates open.  
Grinning, Daine stepped up to him so that they were almost chest-to-chest. She extended her hand in a _low_ altitude, squeezed gently to show her thanks, then asked sweetly,  
My letter?  
Danielson was too stunned to do anything but hand it to her.  
  
  
  
Imperial Majesty, she is here.  
Ozorne, sprawled on an armchair with a book, grunted. Show her in, Marcus.  
The spy left, then returned a moment later, Daine following him. Then Marcus left them in privacy.  
Ozorne didn't want to look up from his book, afraid of seeing the art he had left on Daine's face the night before. But he had to do it. Slowly, deliberately, he closed his book, placed it on the table, only then lifting his eyes to her face. She had one black eye and several other black marks on her cheeks.  
He suddenly felt _very _embarrassed.  
_Calm down_ he yelled at himself, cross. _You're an emperor - she's a slut...a very beautiful...talented...wonderful slut who likes to -_ He shook his head to clear his thoughts, then stood up.  
I'm glad you came, he said quietly.  
Daine seemed fascinated with the carpet. Your _ward_ requested me to come, on your behalf. So I came. Now, why am I here?  
Ozorne felt the urge to throtle the girl rise up again. _Can't she keep a civil tongue in her head? Well - she will, once I..._  
I'm leaving Cría in the morning, he told her. Daine, startled, met his eyes, not sure if this was good or bad news. My buisness here is finished, and I leave for my ship, in Scanra, tomorrow.  
There was a pause. Daine braced herself, knowing that wasn't why Ozorne had told her to come.  
Would you like some tea?  
Daine nearly squeaked with surprise. she stammered, not sure she had heard correctly. Ozorne nodded. Yes, thank you.  
The emperor lead her to another room, where a small table was laid out, boasting fruits, pasteries, and drinks. Slightly suspicious, Daine accepted the offered chair.  
Where's the tea? she asked, noticing that there was only some juice and alcoholic drinks.  
Ozorne, who was making himself comfortable, smiled slightly. Did I say tea? I meant to ask if you'd like a small snack. Of course, if you'd _like_ some tea -  
No, no, it's alright, Daine replied hurriedly. She cut herself a slice of pie and began to eat it, asking herself what was going on.  
After they'd been eating in silence for about ten minutes, Ozorne poured two glasses of red wine and gave one to her.  
I want you to return to Carthak with me.  
Daine froze; an uneaten fruit fell from numb fingers.   
Ozorne's smile was slightly cruel. Did I say I want'? I meant: you _are_ coming to Carthak with me.  
Frightened and confused, Daine took her wine and gulped it all down. Why...why are you doing this? she whispered.  
I _like_ you, Daine, Ozorne instantly replied. True, you may have a viper for a tongue, but we can cure you of that. What really matters is that you are a beautiful young woman with extraordinary talents. Not many of your complexion and appearance can be found in Carthak, and I'm sick and tired of my native women. I want _you_.  
Blinking furiously, Daine shook her head. That simple movement was hard. You can't do this, she said - why did she sound so drunk? _I've drunk more alcohol than this before - and besides, this wine's so weak! What's wrong with me?_  
Oh, but my dear, I can. Ozorne leaned forward and snatched her wrist, placing hard fingers on her pulse. She tried to squirm away, but couldn't. You can't fight me, he said frankly, smiling up at Daine. I'm surprised you're still awake after all that dreamrose I dumped in your wine. But I can wait. I have time.  
_Dreamrose?_ Daine wondered sleepily, knowing that she should be outraged. But even registering anger was too much work at the moment. she mumbled, fighting to keep her eyes open. Not right...Annicka...please...  
Not right? echoed Ozorne. He laughed, then moved up to her and picked her up, cradling her like a baby in his arms. Daine, I'm not concerned with ethics. When I want something, I get it. Always.  
Her vision was going gray. Before totally losing consciousness, she thought _You warned me, Numair..._  
She must have said something outloud, as Ozorne's face tightened. But she didn't care. She was already numb in her drug-induced sleep.  
  
  
  
**Yeah, yeah, the part when Ozorne drugs Daine is based on EM. And it's dreamrose, right? Wakeflower's for waking up the dead - er, I meant...well, never mind.  
VOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTE!!!!!!**


	17. The Begged-for Chapter 16

**This has taken *forever* to post - I know! My deepest apologies! I know where I want this story to go, but it's actually kind of *hard* to get it out, you know!  
Ummm...not much. A reappearance of ...... and ...... since you guys begged me so much! *grinz* More soon, I promise!  
One thing - how do you guys feel about a lemon? I've got a D/N one, but I'm not sure....  
  
Happy reading!  
Giovanna xoxo  
~žAåz~žAåz**

  
Part 16  
  


It seems as if we were here only yesterday, Alanna exclaimed cheerfully, her right hand gesturing lazily at Cría. Numair, riding his faithful gelding, shook his head but said nothing. He wasn't sure about returning.  
The war against Tusaine had been a stupid one. Duke Hilam's son tried to do what his father had failed to; take over the Drell Valley. He lost pathetically, even though he had help from several different types of immortals.  
Alanna couldn't help shivering as she remembered those awe-inspiring creatures. They had been amazing - but she still suffered occasional nightmares. Numair - well, he was a mystery. He had been a mystery ever since they'd left Galla.  
_It's the girl,_ she thought, glancing at her tall friend. He was brooding, hands holding the reins loosely. _I'd have thought he'd be over her by now_.  
Of course, she didn't know if he was worried about _her_, or her magic. Or both.  
Meanwhile, Numair was thinking his own thoughts. Most of them were about Daine's wildmagic - could it help them against the immortals? Ever since the war, those magical beings had been seen all over the Eastern Lands - but it seemed that only Tortall got the nasty ones.  
_If I could only convince her to come back to Corus with us,_ he thought, shifting in his saddle. _She would be a great help. I wonder how far she's gotten with her power, alone. Can she shapeshift? Heal while staying in control?_ He sighed, suddenly noticing how sore his backside was. _I should never have left her. What type of teacher leaves his student in the middle of training?  
You were afraid_, an annoying part of his brain whispered.  
_Of what, pray tell? _ he demanded sarcastically.  
_Your feelings._  
What_ feelings?_  
_Don't deceive yourself, Numair. I know you were growing fond of her.  
Well, of course I was fond of her! She's my _student_! It's perfectly natural for a teacher to be fond of his student.  
You are so transparent. You were attracted to her, and not because she is a potential wildmage. Don't try to deny it._  
Numair didn't bother to reply.  
_See? You can't. You were attracted to her, and -  
Listen here, you subconscious little prat, _Numair suddenly snapped mentally. _I am a blackrobe mage and part of the King's council. Although my younger self _might_ have trifled with common whores, _Numair Salmalín_ does not, I repeat, does _not_, fall in love with them. Ever. She was my student, and thus, as her teacher, I grew to _like_ her in a _fatherly_ way. Understood?  
_The voice had nothing to say to that.  
Satisfied, Numair turned his thoughts to other things - or at least, he _tried_ to. Guilt suddenly swamped his senses; Daine was much more than a common whore. Since when had he begun to scorn courtesans? He himself had accepted their services when he was younger.  
_You're a fool, Numair,_ he thought miserably. _You fell in love during the short time spent with her. But do I still love her? No. That's passed. She's my student, and possibly friend. That's it. Besides, I'm too old for the girl._  
  
  
King Trystam was surprised when they arrived at the palace, but not unhappy. He told them that the magical sickness had apparently disappeared - ever since Alanna and Numair first arrived, it had ceased to develop.  
But don't let that make you leave, he told them cheerfully, leading them himself to their original rooms. You can still study the people who had it, you know. And you must tell me how the war went. I hear that Stormwings were allied with the Tusainis - is this true? And how...  
And so it went. For the entire night, Trystam fired them questions, and, amused, the Tortallans replied. Well, Alanna replied - Numair sat at the window, looking listlessly outside.  
said Alanna, shaking him out of his reverie.  
he asked, turning dark eyes on her.  
Are you alright? That was Trystam, standing up while drinking down the last of his wine. You're very quiet.  
I'm just tired, Numair replied. Are you leaving already?  
The king nodded. You two are falling asleep even as I talk; I am myself. So, I bid you goodnight. He nodded again, then left. Alanna stretched, yawning.  
I'm completely done in, she announced. I'm going to bed. How about you?  
Numair looked back outside. I think I shall go for a ride.  
  
He nodded.  
Don't stay out too long.  
  
The Silver Temple was unnaturally quiet. The doors were locked; the windows dark. There were no men or women lounging outside; no music boomed down the street.  
It looked dead.  
Ignoring a growing unease, Numair made for the door which lead to the common room. It was closed, so he knocked. Hard.  
Just what - began an angry voice; Numair turned around and saw Damara approaching him, a long cloak covering her. He wasn't sure, but he thought she looked older, more tired.  
she gasped, recognizing him. Master Numair! When did you get back?  
I arrived today, he replied, nodding a greeting. Why is it closed?  
replied Damara, fishing a key out of her pocket. A few months ago, one of my girls, Valentina My Valentine, died of a mysterious illness. A healer-friend of mine suggested that I close the Temple temporarily, so it could be renovated and cleaned. Besides, the rest of my girls needed a small vacation. She unlocked the door and slipped in, gesturing for Numair to follow her.  
It was dark; she took a few candles and lit them, before starting a fire in the hearth and getting some drinks. But why are you here? she asked, pulling off her cloak. Have you finally come to your senses and realized that you _do_ want the services of a courtesan?  
Numair blushed slightly. No. I came to see Daine.  
Damara looked down, lower lip trembling. But of course you don't know, she whispered.  
I don't know what? he asked, suddenly alert. Damara looked at him, her eyes glazed with tears.  
Daine...she's gone.  
Numair blinked. She's gone? he repeated stupidly.  
Damara nodded. We haven't seen or heard from her for two months, she rasped. One night, she received a summons from the emperor to come up to the palace. And so she went - and she never returned. And - Master Numair? Are you alright?  
_The emperor_. That was the only thing which registered in his mind. _The emperor_.   
I'm sorry, he said, shaking himself. You said emperor; which emperor?  
Emperor Ozorne of Carthak - Mithros, are you ill?  
Numair had stood up, his face deathly white. he muttered. Are you sure?  
Damara nodded, confusion and worry written on her face. Yes. He used to be a regular visitor when he visited two months ago. Daine was a favorite of his - Master Numair, I think you should sit down!  
The mage shook his head, making for the door. Thank you very much, he told Damara. Then he went outside, mounted his horse, and galloped back to the palace.  
  
he roared, storming inside their suite. Alanna, get up! Now! He began to pace, occasionally overturning a piece of furniture in his rage.  
Numair, what has possessed you? Alanna demanded, entering the room, tying the cord around her robe. Do you know what time it is? And why - she trailed off, noticing for the first time how pale Numair was.   
Get the king, he muttered, staring at a wall.   
But -  
Do it!  
With a sigh, Alanna ran off to obey. A while later, she returned, bringing a sleepy-eyed Trystam with her. Muttering apologies, the knight offered a chair to the king, then sat down herself.  
Numair, pacing furiously, ignored them. _I should have known,_ he thought darkly. _Anything magical attracts his attention - and as soon as we left, he came in. It's almost as if he...as if..._ He stopped, startled at the path his thoughts had taken him to. _It's as if he was the one who -_  
snapped Alanna. Will you _please_ tell us what is going on!  
The mage organized his ideas, then turned towards the knight and the king. In a careful tone, he asked,  
Did Emperor Ozorne of Carthak pay a visit after we left, by any chance?  
Trystam blinked. Well - yes, yes he did. He frowned.   
_Because that pus-sucking, son of a -_ Ozorne and Tortall are not friends, he said. Don't you find it the least bit curious that he comes here right after we leave?  
Alanna looked puzzled, Trystam even more so. Why? He was just acting the monarch, visiting, and forging new alliances and making arrangements.  
Did he seem interested in the magical sickness?  
Trystam's frown suddenly reflected understanding. When he came, he said quietly, I thought the same thing. The magical sickness - two important Tortallans leaving to fight a war - Carthak, a not-so-friendly nation to Tortall, sending her emperor here...yes, he seemed curious enough. Who wouldn't be?  
With a tired sigh, Alanna rubbed her face, trying to stay awake. What are you saying? That Ozorne concocted the illness?  
Numair's smile was bitter. You catch on quickly, my lady, he said sardonically.  
Alanna sighed again. Is there proof? You know you can't accuse him without proof.  
Opening his mouth to reply, Numair was cut off by Trystam.  
She's right, you know. And it's dangerous to accuse a monarch of a crime without tangible evidence - moreover, doing so in front of another monarch is... He trailed off, his face serious and concerned.  
Numair shook his head. I have a hunch, Majesty. Nothing more, nothing less.  
  
The next morning, Alanna found Numair packed and read to go...  
And just _where_ are you going? she demanded, running a hand through her hair.  
Alanna, I didn't tell you last night because of Trystam - Daine's gone.  
The knight blinked. Gone? Daine? Daine's...Daine's _gone_?  
Ozorne took her to Carthak. Numair closed his saddlebag and regarded his friend with a sigh. That's why I was so curious about His Imperialness last night.  
Alanna's mouth was in an O. But how do you know this? she managed to ask.  
Talked to Damara last night, the mage muttered, moving to a mirror so he could brush his hair. Apparently, she was a favorite of his. One day, two months ago, he summoned her to the palace - and she never returned.  
The Lioness shook her head. And why would he take her to Carthak? Why not just...I don't know...kill her? Or -  
Lock her away in a place _not_ Carthak? Numair snorted as he pulled his silky black hair back. Alanna, are we talking about the same Ozorne? Think of it - he becomes obsessed with one of the finest courtesans in the Eastern Lands, and when the time comes to go, he leaves her. No way - it doesn't work like that.  
  
Numair turned towards his friend, a frown pulling his lips down. Ozorne is very...ah...concerned with the...ah...pleasures of the flesh, he began, a slight tinge of pink appearing on his tanned cheeks. Obviously, that means he likes to involve himself in extreme ple-  
Alright, alright, I understand! snapped Alanna; Numair grinned humorlessly.  
Anyway, Carthak has a certain breed of women. Dark hair, dark eyes, warm, smoky skin - I'm not saying there isn't any variation, but a man can get sick of that exotic complexion after a while. Ozorne, especially. He's fickle. My guess is that he began to crave a Northerner - pale skin, pale eyes.  
Daine's not fair.  
She's still an ice-lady compared to Carthak's stock of women.  
sighed Alanna. I think I understand now. He wanted a different sort of mistress, so he just grabbed his favorite courtesan in Galla and took her to Carthak. It's all very clear to me now.  
Numair responded. Now, I want to get back to Tortall, concoct some excuse for traveling to Carthak, and get her back.  
But Numair, are you sure that's safe? I mean, so many th-  
Do you know what Ozorne will _do_ when - if - he discovers Daine's wildmagic? Numair hissed, glaring at her. Do you?  
I can't begin to imagine.¤


	18. Just to clear things up...

Hey guys -  
  
I know you guys might have thought that this is the new chapter, but it's not. It's just to clarify something: when I meant lemon', I mean seperate lemon'. See, I have a short-fic, which is a D/N lemon that takes place immediately after ROTGs. Less than five pages on my screen! ^_^  
  
I'd also like to add that there *will* be SSSs, okay? Remember that Daine's a *prostititute* - and now Ozorne's! *gasp**faint**spasm* But don't worry - nothing graphic, y'know? I dun wanna ruin the story by turning it into somesort of erotica...*shudder* No, that ruins the whole LOTS...  
  
Oh - a billion-trillion thanx to all who've reviewed so far! *tears* I'd like to thank you all personally, but there's just too many of y'all! So, in one combo package:  
  


**THANK YOU!!!  
  
**

~ Giovanna xoxo


End file.
